Grimmfall: Ragnarok
by ArchPsion
Summary: Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds.
1. Prologue: Infernal Huntsman

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall, Ben 10 or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own the protagonist of this story, a character of my own making who you all may recognize from some of Lord Maximus' other stories. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

Update: I realized that I mistakenly named Epsilon, the one who tried to abduct Nigel and Abigail in the main Grimmfall story, as Sigma. I blame this on finishing this chapter around 2 in the morning.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

TOM eased himself down into his seat. "Have you ever carried a regret with you? Not just for failing a test because you didn't study, or for not being careful with your diet. Imagine carrying with you a moment in your life where everything changes in the blink of an eye and in the aftermath you only find yourself to blame as the ashes settle. Regrets can become these great weights that push us down as we try to move past these moments, a constant reminder of what we wish we could have done better."

He tapped an interface to his right and reclined into a more comfortable position. "They can also push us to better ourselves by reminding us of something we never want to go through again. Worst of all sometimes they can be completely irrational, over something that we had no effect on although we tell ourselves different. They can make us push away helping hands and turn our backs on what matters most. What matters is never letting your regrets keep you from living your life to the fullest, because then you'll never really be living."

Xxx

 **Prologue: The Infernal Huntsman**

The island nation of Trident wanted little to do with the world, but begrudgingly admitted to a heightened need for Huntsmen in the face of attacks by Grimm, pirates and any number of threats that roamed the Atlantic. Most would be hard pressed to find it on a map, given that it was a very recently formed country on islands not yet known to the wider world. The Huntsmen academies and their headmasters as well as governments with what passed for diplomatic ties with the fledgling nation were among those who could point out its location, typically for the sake of Huntsmen dispatched on assignment.

However, others made use of Trident for less altruistic ventures. This was what led to a seemingly unassuming freighter pulling up into the island's largest harbour under the cover of darkness. As it pulled up to moor itself along a wharf it was approached by several men and women clad in the standard aqua-blue uniforms of Trident Customs Enforcement and cradling dust-enhanced rifles and shotguns. They waited as a ramp was lowered to allow the occupants of the ship to march down in formation, their armoured feet stomping against the wooden planks as the rest of the armoured raiments caught the light of the moon.

"Knights?" One of the officers, an alligator Faunus with scaled skin snorted as he took in the sight of a contingent of men clad in full plate armour. "Did the convention come to town?"

"Shh!" Another hushed him. "Pipe down, moron. These guys aren't cosplayers and they really don't like being mocked."

"Your friend speaks wisely." The formation of knights parted, dividing into two halves which stepped away from one another just far enough to allow one more to disembark the ship, this one clad in more decorative armour complete with a golden mask, red tunic and a crown atop his encompassed head. "Fortunately for you, I am disinterested in wasting time in dispensing discipline. Have you what was promised?"

The head customs officer nodded and gave a low whistle, prompting two more to emerge from the shadows of a nearby warehouse, carrying a crate between them. "Got nine more like it lined up. And they'll be lined up right here once I see you've got the money." He waited for his men to unlatch the lid before kicking it off himself, revealing rows of rifle sized weapons which didn't resemble anything made by human hands. "Forty plasma lances, compliments of…some species whose name I honestly can not pronounce. Well, that's to be expected from a race of slugs that communicate via sonic vibrations."

The Forever King, Enoch, remained unresponsive as one of his men pulled a plasma lance from the crate and unfolded it into its full length, one end hissing as many micro-lasers superheated oxygen trapped in a small magnetic envelope until it ionized and turned into a blade of red plasma. The knight tested the weapon's balance with a few simple movements and cut through a nearby lantern post, cleanly severing the upper half and making it fall into the harbour.

"The genuine article, my liege." The Knight gave his honest appraisal.

When Enoch snapped his fingers, the air to either side of him shimmered like light passing through water until two more of his Knights, dressed in a less cumbersome variety of their companions' armour, materialized. This put the customs officers on edge, but beyond triple checkin their surroundings they made no protest as the pair stepped forward and opened a case cuffed to their right wrists, revealing vials of refined Dust.

"Some of the finest Dust to come out of the Alaskan Refineries." The Forever King held up one vial and allowed it to be taken for examination. "Worthless to my agenda, but priceless to yours."

"All too true." The head officer waited until his specialist gave him a nod and then whistled three times. More figures emerged from behind the warehouse, pushing two trolleys stacked with more crates. "I have to admit, when I heard you'd be giving up high quality dust for a few fancy guns I was…sceptical."

"Unlike Dust, these weapons don't cease to function after leaving this world's biosphere." Enoch crossed his arms. "Dust…Aura…take any Huntsman high enough into orbit and watch their precious powers cease to function. Watch their weapons become inert paperweights. Watch the mighty heroes become weak little mortals."

"Eh, I'd prefer to watch the look on my girl's face when she sees what she's getting for her birthday this year." The head officer grinned and accepted the twin cases after they were disconnected from their handlers. "Pleasure doing business with you. If you need anymore of this alien junk that friend of mine has a whole yard full of the stuff that he's dying to get rid of."

A shrill whistle drew the attention, and aim, of both parties towards the roof of the warehouse overshadowing the meeting.

"I don't think you need to worry about that anymore." A silhouette framed by the moon light stepped into view. "I paid him a visit already."

This man had an unassuming appearance: dark haired, blue eyed, dark shirt and pants under a denim jacket with the sleeves ripped away to leave two tell toned arms exposed along with dust tattoos which emitted a stark white glow.

The lead customs officer tapped his radio twice and waited. A few moments later he repeated this with visible urgency. "Where the hell…"

"Looking for your friends?" The man held up a helmet with a reflective black visor, one of several worn by the snipers posted to watch over the transaction from afar. "Paid them all a visit. You customs boy have a lot of high-tech gear, I don't think even Grimmfall PD has some of this stuff."

Enoch sighed irritably. "Showboating is beneath you, Mr Hunter."

"Maybe, but it's always satisfying." The man, Hunter, winked. "Especially when it comes with ruining your day. Plus, I'm on a bit of a high with all the fancy toys that I just got."

"I didn't get paid to take on a Huntsman." One of the customs officers said nervously, whispering to a rabbit eared Faunus woman next to him.

"What if he called the cops?"

"Let's get out of here before he-" Before the man could finish speaking he was shot in the back by a beam of plasma which scorched clean through his minimal body armour as he screamed. His companion soon followed, prompting the remaining officers to turn their guns on the culprit.

"I believe the old saying is…" Enoch handed the plasma lance back to his subordinate. "Loose lips sink ships. Mr Hunter wouldn't inform the authorities, he wouldn't miss a chance to do something immeasurably risky all on his lonesome." He snapped his fingers. "Forever Knights. Take him."

The two Stealth-Knights stepped forward, both of their arms reshaping to expose extensive cybernetic prostheses which formed revealed a gun mounted on one forearm and a telescopic blade on the other. As on they fired off a volley towards Mr Hunter's perch only for he projectiles to pass clean through him.

"Hey, he snagged one of the Holo-Emitters!" The lead customs officer clenched his teeth. "Swiping my goods…"

"It's like I said, Officer Stein." Mr Hunter curled all but the middle and index fingers on his right hand up, pointed his hand like a gun towards him and made a clicking noise with his mouth. "I got a whole lotta new toys today. Bang."

The single crate that had been brought before Enoch erupted in a ball of fire that launched the Forever Knights standing near it flying, only their armour saving them from serious injury. The plasma lance wielded by Enoch's subordinate began to spark and fizzle. Its wielder realized the danger and tossed the weapon upwards as hard as he could before it too exploded.

"My liege!" One of the Stealth-Knights raced to Enoch's side to find the self proclaimed Forever King's armour scorched along the side that had been facing the initial explosion. "That explosion will draw attention, we must get you to safety!"

"Stay and deal with Hunter." Enoch growled, allowing one of his subordinates to assist him in making his way back up the plank towards the deck of the freighter. "I won't have him following me any longer."

"Hey wait a second!" Stein called after him. "You're just leaving us to deal with this?!"

"You have the aid of two of my men in cleaning up what is undoubtedly the fallout of one of _your_ people betraying this meeting's time and location." Enoch replied apathetically as he stepped up onto the deck. "Like I said, Officer Stein: loose lips sink ships. Plug this leak and removed evidence of your culpability if you ever wish to do business with the Forever Knights again. Consider the money I've left you a reward if you succeed."

"Son of a…this is what I get for dealing with a bunch'a medieval cosplayers." Stein waved to his men. "Gather anything this guy didn't snatch and dispose of it! Double-time!"

The two Stealth Knights split up as Enoch's freighter began to pull away from the docks. One scaled the warehouse and found an abandoned hologram emitter positioned below the smug Hunter. "Don't try too hard to figure out where I am, buddy." He winked and began to disappear, his silhouette fizzling out when the Stealth Knight picked the emitter up. "It's actually pretty easy to guess."

The Stealth Knight ignored this taunting and examined the emitter to find the origin of the signal being funnelled through it. Meanwhile below his companion watched in disinterest as the customs officers raced around the warehouse towards the truck containing the lion's share of the alien-made contraband. It also came with a few barrels of refined fire dust just in case something like this happened, but none of them came close to opening it before flood lights snapped on and illuminated the parking lot.

"FREEZE!"

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"

"STAY AWAY FROM THAT TRUCK!"

Men and women in blue armour with the emblem of Trident's national police service, the TNS, flooded into view from between nearby warehouses, accompanied by several armoured cars. The Stealth Knight engaged his optical cloak and faded out of view from both the naked eye and electronic detection, knowing his counterpart would take similar precautions.

"King Enoch said this Hunter wouldn't involve the authorities…" The second Stealth-Knight looked towards the shrinking form of the freighter.

And then he noticed something: two missing bodies, those of the customs officers shot in the back by Enoch during the stand-off…right before he'd handed off the single plasma lance not contained in its crate. The crate itself had contained a small explosive Dust charge, just enough to compromise the containment on the weapons within, but to detonate the last remaining plasma lance…

"No." He whispered, and sent his companion a prompt over their synced HUDs before dashing towards the end of the pier and igniting a series of jump jets which turned an already considerable leap into a short time spent in flight. He almost fell short but managed to grab onto the railing along the side which he used to pull himself up. Upon standing on the deck of the freighter he could see the forms of the very same Knights in Enoch's escort, a dozen men who had been conscious two minutes ago.

"Figured it out, bud?"

King Enoch's crowned helmet was tossed into view from the wheel house. A man, the same man from the roof of the warehouse, was sitting on the edge of the structure in Enoch's armour, which disappeared from view much like this man's doppelgänger had. Another hologram!

"You dare?!" The Stealth Knight fired a spray of plasma bolts which Hunter dodged this time, dropping down from the wheel house and vaulting over a railing on a catwalk looping around the exterior to land on the deck where he unfolded a large sword. The blade blazed a trail through the air as it intercepted any of the projectiles that came even close to hitting their target, who closed the distance with a burst of speed and sliced through the Stealth Knight's arm at the elbow. Exposed wiring sparked as the prosthetic tumbled to the deck, the metal superheated where the blade had made contact.

On the second swing the Stealth Knight managed to parry, the alloy making up his arm mounted blade holding up against the heat generated from the fire Dust within Hunter's sword.

"Where is King Enoch?!" The Knight demanded, hearing his comrade hula himself up onto solid ground a few meters away. "What have you done with the King?!"

Hunter's arrogant grin only further enraged him. "Big E? Oh, he's been gone for a while, living it high in a nice little cell. Just pretend to be a snob with delusions of grandeur and you'd be surprised how easy you Forever Knights buy into the role." He either spotted the other Stealth-Knight in the periphery of his vision or somehow sensed his charge, because in a single move he was able to break the blade lock, grab the one-armed fighter around the back of his neck and swing him into his comrade's path while stepping out of dodge, resulting in the two Knights colliding in a heap which they quickly recovered from.

"You…dared to wear his crown?! To speak with his authority?!" The Knight who still retained the use of both hands demanded. "Why?!"

"Uh…because he's a glorified terrorist who would sell his own mom if he thought it would make someone call him king?" Hunter spun his sword a few times, creating small lines of read along the floor where the tip of his weapon just barely grazed the metal. "Also to find out how you schmucks kept getting your paws on all this fancy alien tech. And as luck would have it…this was the last seller your boss had listed, so…" He kicked Enoch's helmet aside as he passed near it. "I'd really consider just giving up now."

Both Knights' tertiary sensor packages alerted them to the boats approaching from close by, carrying TNS officers ready and waiting to board.

"Brother…we have little time." One-Arm said.

"Then let us at least have the pleasure of doing away with this irksome, smirking man." Two-Arm growled.

"My thoughts precisely." One-Arm said, his HUD highlighting his severed arm and its still functioning plasma cannon. "In the name of Enoch the Forever King, die!"

The severed arm flipped over, perched on the tips of its fingers like some spider. It quickly brought its cannon to bear on Hunter and fired away, forcing him to look away from the twins to fend off the salvo. This game Two-Arm the time to launch a surprise attack of his own, swinging down at his target's exposed back. The huntsman cursed and spun, bringing his sword up in time to block the downwards stroke and drop backwards, bringing Two-Arm into the line of fire as the course of his lunge carried him over Hunter. Several bolts pelted the Stealth-Knight's armour but did little to actually deter him.

"Probably would've worked if you just shot me, moron!" Hunter called, flipping back onto his feet and pulling a knife from the inside of his denim jacket.

Triggering the explosive Dust contained within the four-inch long blade, he flung it towards the severed arm and turned his attention to One-Arm, who likewise made a failed attempt at cutting him apart but succeeded in delivering a vicious kick to Hunter's jaw in the midst of contorting his body through a backflip.

The knife sank into the severed arm's forearm as it tried to reorient itself for another shot. In the blink of an eye it was blasted apart from within as the knife's blade exploded with the force of a grenade. This also caught Two-Arm, who had been running past in close proximity to aid his brother. Shards of metal sank into the Stealth-Knight's armour, one of them striking his optics and partly blinding him.

"Urgh!" He stumbled but quickly regained his balance, charging to where One-Arm and Hunter were engaged. "Have at thee!"

Hunter snorted and leaned back out of the path of a stab. "I swear, if I took a shot for every time you guys put on a hammy performance like this I'd have been dead or passed out on day one." He muttered, weaving between the combined attacks. "Alright, fun's over!"

With an upwards swipe he cut through One-Arm's remaining upper limb and quickly took off Two-Arm's sword bearing limb in a downward chop. He backed up and kept his sword up, tip pointed between the two as they stumbled and assessed their new condition.

"Stand. Down." He told them firmly. "I don't want to kill either of you."

"That is your weakness, huntsman." Two-Arm…or rather, the new One-Arm, replied. "We do not share it."

"Look, your arm's off and your buddy there has _no_ arms. Let's onto start ripping off Monty Python!" Hunter demanded. "I'm not doing the Black Knight scene here!"

"In the name of Eno-augh!" One-Arm's body arched sharply as he was hit with electrical shocks delivered by several TNS officers who had scrambled aboard during the fight. No-Arm quickly joined him, both of them struggling to keep from collapsing face-first onto the deck as the TNS officers moved in.

"Secure the ship!" One of them, the very same man who had been shot by Hunter earlier while he was still undercover shouted as he approached, flanked by his rabbit eared companion. "A little warning would've be nice."

"Eh, I hit you with the lowest setting. With your armour you didn't even feel anything." Hunter's sword folded back into its smallest shape and he slid it into a sheathe across his lower back. "Besides, what did the Commissioner say I'd do when you gave me the code phrases, tap you on the head?"

"All the same, you could have found something a little less extreme to sell the act." The rabbit Faunus said. "But…it got results." She motioned to the Stealth-Knights as they were put in restraints that inhibited the functions of their cybernetics, severely reducing their ability to move or cause any harm to those around them while disengaging their on-board weapons. "You really stuck around with these nuts for months? And they never suspected a thing?"

"Not. A. Thing." Hunter shook his head. "Good job on setting up your end of the ambush, by the way. Gotta admit, I was worried that with all the details your boss put into this sting something would give it away."

"Uh…the commissioner actually didn't draw this one up." The human officer answered sheepishly. "We had a consultant working on it until the last minute. He arranged everything, even marked the most likely places where Stein would post his snipers."

"A…consultant?" Hunter felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

"Yeah, a huntsman like you, actually." The rabbit Faunus nodded.

"Did this guy by any chance wear sun glasses?" Hunter asked. "At…all times? Even at night?"

"Yeah! Found that to be a little weird but…" The human officer trailed off. "You know the guy?"

 _Damn it Kurt, stay out of my life._

"Huh…used to think I did." Hunter stepped towards the edge of the boat. "Look, if you guys don't need me anymore, I'd like to just go get debriefed so I can punch out from this whole thing. I just spent three months playing Kings and Castles with these losers, my wife is gonna want to kill me and I bet she'll find a way to resurrect me _just_ so she can kill me as many times as she wants if I miss our son's birthday."

"Oh, you're married?" The rabbit Faunus spoke up. "Sorry if I sound surprised, I just thought that…well…for a big risk, long term mission like this…"

"That they'd pick someone with no wife, no kids and no future?" Hunter smiled humourlessly. "You'd think that, wouldn't yah? Let's just say Old Man Sebben has a particular way of showing he likes me." He lazily raised one hand in farewell and then dissolved before their very eyes, turning into a cloud of ashes which remained together in spite of the ocean breeze and travelled back towards shore.

Xxx

" _Hello, Carlos._ "

" _Are we squared now?_ " Carlos Hunter asked bluntly.

" _In spite of what you might convince yourself, I never held your past associations against you._ " Phil Ken Sebben, Headmaster of Nevernest Academy, said. " _But if it makes you feel better: we're squared._ "

" _Heh, sure could'a fooled me with how you reacted._ "

" _I admit I was…temperamental that day._ " Phil admitted. " _You did, after all, give me quite a bit to feel concerned about._ "

" _Yeah, yeah…how's that Uno kid doing anyways?_ " Carlos asked.

" _He's learning. You might be interested to know that the others have revealed themselves as well._ "

" _Interested to know that suddenly it doesn't seem so paranoid to invest in a bunker under my house._ " Carlos pinched the bridge of his nose. " _Okay, okay…so all four are out in the open. Does Sammy have any of them?_ "

" _Not as of yet, no. Epsilon also has been kept from taking custody of them._ "

Carlos' grip on the tablet tightened. " _Do you need me to pay that sanctimonious geek a visit again?_ "

" _I'd rather avoid any further antagonistic meetings with Epsilon if I can help it._ " Phil declined. " _However, there is something I may need you to look into- of course I mean only after you attend Charlie's birthday and have had some quality time with your family. This matter isn't critical as of yet. Take the month, then come to my office. We'll talk more._ "

" _I'll make it three weeks._ " Carlos said. " _Less if Sammael makes sudden moves._ "

" _As you wish. Enjoy the flight home, Carlos._ " Phil said cheerfully. " _And please, do try to keep your semblance under control on your way back. The airline wasn't so forgiving the last time and I just barely convinced them to make you an exception to their no smoking rule._ "

" _Ha ha._ " Carlos rolled his eyes. " _As always you're a reeeeal comedian, Seb. See you in a few weeks._ "

" _Goodbye and have a safe trip._ "

Click.

Carlos exhaled slowly. "Glob give me strength."

Xxx

 _Accessing Nevernest Archives…_

 _Retrieving Personnel File…_

 _File Retrieval completed._

 _Name: Max 'Carlos' Hunter_

 _Code Name: The Infernal Huntsman_

 _Weapon: Warhawk, a collapsible sword laced with fire Dust that allows it to ignite on command. Additional throwing knives which make improvised explosive weapons._

 _Semblance: Cloak of Infernal Ash. Carlos is able to transform into a cloud of ashes which cannot be dispersed by typical meteorological phenomenon, resisting attempts to divide it. If the cloud is too severely dispersed Carlos will reform, possibly as a safety measure. In this form he is capable of travelling at great speeds and even inducing combustion within any area consumed by his ash form._

 _Addendum, Carlos' semblance was not originally this. Events regarding this change are restricted to access by Headmaster Sebben and any teacher or associated personnel whose clearance level is Level Four or higher._

 _Family: Charles Hunter (Father, Huntsman, deceased), Maria Hunter (Mother, MI6 Operative and Huntress, deceased), Sarah Malcolm-Hunter (Younger Sister, Huntress), Allison Hunter (Youngest Sister, Huntress), Kurt Malcolm (Brother-in-law through marriage to Sarah, former team mate and Hunter), Melissa Hunter (Wife, retired Huntress), Charles Hunter (Son), Robert Hunter (Son) and Ellie Hunter (Daughter)._

 _Background (minus all redacted materials): Carlos Hunter (forgoing the use of his real first name on the grounds that it sounded like a cliché secret agent name) is a graduate of Nevernest Academy and former member of Team RGCK (Ragnarok) alongside fellow graduates Kurt Malcolm, Roberto Lupine and Gregor Brobdith. Two years after graduation Carlos was involved with an altercation against Gregor following the latter's involvement in - (REDACTED) -resulting in the official dissolution of Team RGCK. Since then Carlos has worked as an independent Huntsman but still has maintained close contact with Nevernest and has been a willful and useful ally in many matters. He refuses to speak with Kurt or remain in his presence outside of family gatherings, with his wedding to Carlos' sister Sarah being the one exception to that rule._

 _Most recently he has cooperated to root out the Forever Knight Sect led by Enoch, locating every major seller of illegally obtained extraterrestrial weapons which the Forever Knights are known to collect and reverse engineer for their own benefit._

 _In a sting planned by Kurt Malcolm (Codenamed Knightfall) Carlos' likeness was used with a remotely hacked holo-emitter planted by Kurt beforehand as a distraction. Once Carlos was given a set of specific phrases meant to indicate that two officers planted by the Trident National Service division planted as moles were present he faked their deaths with a shot from a plasma lance set to its lowest output so that if any elements of the Forever Knights or the Weapon Trafficking Ring escaped they would not be targeted. Fortunately this turned out to be an unnecessary measure in the end, along with many other secondary and tertiary contingencies set by Kurt. Carlos would later reflect in retrospect that the list of backup plans as long as his arm should have been the first clue that Kurt was involved._

 _Carlos then deceived the only two Stealth-Knights in his compliment to remain on shore long enough for him to disable the crew of the Forever Knights' freighter, enabling TNS to take it and its cargo of alien technology intact as well as arresting all members of Officer Stein's trafficking ring without any loss of life._

 _The events of Operation Knightfall are to be modified to exclude his involvement by his own request._

 _Closing Personnel File_

 _Logging out._

Xxx

End of Prologue


	2. Chapter One: Homecoming

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall, Ben 10 or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

TOM walked through a length of corridor, addressing a camera drone matching his pace and hovering at waist height. "Have you ever tried to solve your problems by turning away from them? Pretend that they don't exist or don't concern you? Too many fail to learn that time doesn't always heal. Sometimes it just lets old wounds fester." He came to the bridge and assumed his regular seat. "And just as a festering wound can lead to infection, old grudges and resentment can take hold of you, blind you. The only cure at that point becomes closure, but few will ever seek it even if it's offered to them on a silver. platter. That's the sad truth of being blinded by hatred."

Xxx

 **Chapter One: Homecoming**

 **Grimmfall, City Hall, three weeks later**

"So let me see if I have this right." Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs peeked over the edge of the portfolio she was reading from. "We're bringing Carlos _back_ here? Willingly?"

Phil Ken Sebben took a sip from his coffee. "I understand your confusion, Ms Briggs."

"Confusion? Sir, I think you have my present mood confused." Briggs slapped the folder down on the desk. "I'm half tempted to take my vacation early this year. Have you forgotten all the lawsuits? The days spent trying to undo the damage done by him and his team? I think I was starting to grow grey hairs by the time they finally graduated."

"No such thing, Callie. For the record, I don't need two eyes to see that you are still clearly as blonde and full of vitality as you were ten years ago." Phil waved one hand dismissively. "Besides, for all the antics that Team RGCK may have gotten into they also did a lot of good. How many trainee teams can you name that managed to prevent a full breach not once, but three times in four years?"

"Granted, they had their uses. Outside. Away from the office." Callie replied. "Where they couldn't cause millions of technoes in property damage. And if I recall Carlos nearly cost you your job during that one time-"

"The courts cleared him of that as I recall, and the situation was resolved amicably." Phil insisted.

"Thanks to Kurt, the least insane of them all." Callie pointed out. "And given the fact that he's apparently not available-"

"Yes…that's one way of putting it." Phil sighed. "Do you recall the day that Carlos started that food fight?"

"Which one?" Callie deadpanned.

"Right." Phil nodded. "During one of them..I spotted Kurt sneaking into the Restricted Archives. Carlos was his distraction, his red herring. Carlos may be viewed as a mad dog…but a lot of the time it was Kurt who directed him. On his own, Carlos can be…reasonable if you know how to deal with him. Besides, he'll only be here for briefing and then I'll have sent on his way."

"Oh, good." Callie sighed, adjusting her glasses as she stood up. "I don't want to think about how much damage he could do if he was here for longer than nece-"

The building rumbled beneath their feet.

"He's here." Phil stated calmly.

"I'll double check our insurance." Callie strode out as quickly as she could without appearing as if she was actually running. "But first, I think I'd like to do what I should have done when he graduated."

Moments later Phil heard muffled voices just outside.

"Oh hey Miss Briggs it's been a long-"

THWACK!

Phil actually cringed a little at the sound of a punch that he was sure would have left a shiner…on anyone else.

"Are you about to say you didn't deserve that?" Callie asked, cross.

"Urgh…naw, pretty sure I deserved that." Carlos groaned. "I'm guessing that was for the whole parade incident the week before grad."

Another blow landed.

"And for the picnic incident three days before grad." Callie added. "And the bar fight from the next day."

A third, this one actually causing Phil's mug to rattle against his desk.

"And this is for that mess you got young Gregor into-" This time there was no hit.

Phil could picture Callie's startled face as he fist was caught short of striking home.

"That." Carlos exhaled. "Is something that I'm not taking the hit for. Now if you'll pardon me, teach, I've got to talk with Sebben."

A few foot steps later and the door opened without so much as a knock. Carlos stepped through, looking…a lot better than how he usually did whenever he was called in, though Phil attributed this to the few weeks spent with his wife and kids.

"Ah, Carlos!" Phil met him with a smile. "Come in, have a seat. I have some healing formula if you need it."

"No need." Carlos pulled up a chair and sat down. "Your deputy still hits like a girl, and I don't mean a girl like my wife or Leslie."

"Careful." Phil warned with a chuckle. "She might conjure something bigger than her to do the job next time."

"I'd welcome the exercise." Carlos reclined in his seat. "So, what's the big op this time?"

"Kurt and Roberto are missing."

The silence that followed lasted almost half a minute. Carlos slowly sat up straight in his chair, his attention now piqued. "Got anymore coffee to go around?" He asked. "I suddenly think I'll need it."

"Plenty." Phil walked over to one side f his office where he began to fix a cup. "I heard that Kurt was responsible for arranging the final sting in your long term mission among Enoch's faction."

"Only he'd be able to make something like that work flawlessly." Carlos nodded. "Guy never seems to get the point of 'stay out of my life' anymore."

Phil returned and set a steaming cup down. "Something tells me he had justifiable reason this time." He said. "Do you remember when he used you as a distraction to sneak down into-"

"The Restricted Archives, yeah." Carlos nodded.

"Did he ever tell you what he found down there?"

"Sebben, I learned long before Kurt and I ever got put on the same team that if he's got something going on in the background then I definitely don't want to know or be involved." Carlos poured some cream in and stirred. "That being said…what did the Master of Conspiracies take? Let me guess: proof that celebrities elected to public office are the puppets of shadow cabinets. Or boy bands use subliminal messages to alter the behaviour of their fans to fit some agenda. Case in point: Justin Beaver."

"I'm afraid it's nothing so…amusing." Phil sat across from him. "Kurt accessed files regarding a group of particular interest to the United States Government…and every other government on this planet."

"The hell kind of blackmail did he have on you to not get expelled for that?" Carlos asked, one brow raised.

"No blackmail, he was simply entitled to the information…because its contents were related to the deaths of his parents." Phil answered. "You see, Carlos, Kurt has been most proactive in trying to divulge some proof that their deaths were the result of deliberate action. It is the very reason behind him applying to Nevernest Academy in the first place. When he was not on missions with the team or busy with school work or…your sister Sarah…he would devote his time and resources to this obsession."

…

"Why am I even surprised?" Carlos rubbed his eyes and took a deep sip from his cup. "Okay, so this all relates to him vanishing with Roberto?"

"Unfortunately." Phil affirmed. "Kurt recently took his investigations to a region of the central United States that is…Grimm Territory."

"Please don't say the Darklands." Carlos shut his eyes.

"…I won't, but that won't change the reality of what I'm about to say next." Phil said, leaning forward with an intense look. "Located in the Darklands is a secret R&D facility devoted to the creation of countermeasures against the Grimm and the Fallen. General Specific was heading the project at the time. I believe you may remember one of the test subjects from there, a member of the Injustice Friends."

"You mean the Juice Guy with the stupid name?" Carlos rolled his eyes. "Grappulator?"

"Indeed. Kurt found a lead that this facility had ties to certain individuals of particular interest, ties which I'm ashamed to admit had been hidden under my nose for a long time." Phil explained. "He broke into General Specific's office and downloaded everything he could before the General commenced a total lockdown. He's issued a nation-wide alert and, quite simply, wants Kurt's head and the information he stole."

"And Roberto?"

"He was Kurt's getaway driver."

"What exactly would make Roberto want to break into a military base, even with Kurt in the lead?" Carlos demanded. "The guy was all for retiring after-" He choked on his next word, but Phil knew what he was talking about.

"I suppose your old team mate is as persuasive as ever." Phil shrugged. "They escaped the base on an air craft and managed to breach the border of the Darklands before ground batteries shot them down. The crash site was found, but they were long gone without any trace of leaving…"

"I'm sensing an 'except for'." Carlos motioned for him to continued.

"Except for indications of some form of matter translocation technology which left a unique radiation." Phil continued. "The aircraft was left on autopilot, making it a decoy that covered for their real escape. They're mobile and being hunted, but Specific is keeping this deliberately quiet, only involving law enforcement agencies and Hunters who he can trust to be discreet. It's only a matter of time until he finds them."

"Specific? Find them? Really?" Carlos stared at him dully. "That guy couldn't find a sheep if you left in a line of twine to follow to it."

"True, however Private Public has proven to be up to the task." Phil had a screen extend up out of his desk and display a map of the continental USA. "For someone who excels at following, his Semblance proved to be quite a hint of irony."

"Don't tell me: his semblance makes him a natural tracker." Carlos guessed.

"It does."

"Asked you not to tell me, Sebben."

"And I asked you to please refrain from crashing my favourite car into the middle of that parade."

"Hey, if I hadn't that Satyra cell would've let out all that nerve gas!" Carlos protested. "C'mon, one car vs thousands of lives?"

"…granted, but I stand by my view that you could have found a means of stopping them that didn't involve my car. Truth be told: I think you just chose my car to tool me."

Carlos smiled innocently. "Uh…what were we saying about that Private guy?"

"He's tracked Kurt and Roberto to a desert region: Nowhere." Phil indicated the marked position on the map. "Before that he went to Paris, Gravity Falls and a few other places of note. The trail ends in Nowhere, and Private Public is closing in on them with some hired help. I gave you the time off because at the time the situation was still developing and it appeared that Kurt and Roberto would remain one step ahead, but…needless to say, it's a good thing you declined the full month's leave."

Carlos gave the Headmaster/Mayor a knowing smile and tapped one finger just below his own right eye. "It sure was lucky." He drawled sarcastically.

"Can I assume this means that you will take the job?"

Carlos stood up, crushed the now empty cup and tossed it into a waste bin off to the side. "Who's he packing?" He asked, evading the question.

"The good General has enlisted number of outlaws who have been known to moonlight as mercenaries for missions which the American government prefers to have plausible deniability for." Phil pulled several files out and slid them across his desk. "Rattlesnake Jake, illusionist and gunslinger. Ezekiel, aka: Zuke, and his ex-wife and on-off partner Josephine…who is ordered by court not to come within a hundred meters of her former spouse."

"She signed on just to tool him." Carlos guessed. "Can't report the violation without reporting what he was doing at the time and the government won't lift a finger to help him in court. Sink or swim, they'd say."

"Accurate. Next would be Robert Pataki, aka: Big Bob, ex-military and former owner of the business Big Bob's Beepers until the rise in technology left his goods outdated without any way to catch up. Now he works as a private contractor…and will be bringing his daughters along if my sources are accurate."

"He's bringing the kids to work?" Carlos asked. "Seriously?"

"My thoughts exactly." Phil agreed. "That brings me to Olga and Helga Pataki. And finally…Rouge the Bat."

Carlos shut his eyes and slowly inhaled. "…oh not her again."

"I seem to recall that stunt she pulled on you and your team in the amazon rain forest." Phil recalled with an amused smile. "Expert treasure hunter, recently recruited by Global Justice. She makes most of her money playing both sides against the middle and keeping herself too useful to our side to simply lock away."

"So that makes it…seven mercenaries, all ranging from class 3 to 5…with Rouge being a real hard class five." Carlos rubbed his jawline. "And Rattlesnake Jake's a genuine hunter, especially in somewhere like Nowhere."

"He's also occasionally been hired on by the Satyra." Phil added. "He may not share their cause but he takes their money all the same. Big Bob's military training on top of his top tier athleticism makes him a foe to be reckoned with, and his daughters are seeking to take after him. Josephine and Zeke may be the weak link in the chain if you can play them against each other, but I wouldn't rely on it. Zeke's a walking arsenal with his prosthetic arm and Josephine is said to be a walking hurricane in any close quarters fight."

"So I have my work cut out for me." Carlos nodded, pacing slowly. "You got a ride I can take to Nowhere?"

"I have a drop ship waiting on the roof as we speak, fully fuelled with the autopilot set." Sebben smirked. "Of course, you still haven't said whether or not you're taking this job."

"Drop the payment with Mel and the kids." Carlos walked towards the door.

"Carlos." Phil's voice made him stop short. "You know Kurt won't be dissuaded from this, right?"

"Don't need to remind me." Carlos frowned and looked over his shoulder. "If that spikey haired know-it-all wants to waste the rest of his life chasing shadows all over the world while my baby sis raises his kids ninete-nine percent of the time then far be it from me to stop him." He gave an exaggerated shrug. "At least then my niece and nephew won't turn into conspiracy nuts when they grow up and drag someone down with them like he did."

"…I understand that you're still…mad about what happened." Phil said carefully. "But you're being rather unfair towards him. There were a number of factors that led to what happened."

"And where Rob and I took responsibility, Kurt did what he does and just…flew away and left us to deal with the fallout." Carlos said derisively, making a fluttering motion with one hand before he swung the door open. "I'll pull him out of the fire one more time, then you'd better not call me up to help him out again. Ever. Understood?"

Sebben closed his one visible eye. "Absolutely."

"Good." Carlos stepped out and slammed the door behind him.

Phil Ken Sebben slowly reached over and opened a secondary screen on his desk, perusing the old yearbook photos before he came to one labelled R.G.C.K. He opened it to the image of graduation day at Nevernest Academy ten years ago. The photo was centred on four newly graduated Huntsmen who, in spite of all the trouble they'd gotten into over the years, had emerged at the top of Nevernest's graduating class that year.

On the far left was the official team leader, Roberto Lupine, large for his age and with a thick mane of dark hair that barely concealed his wolf ears. Next was an even larger young man, standing at just over eight feet and rippling with muscles, a boyish grin on his face as he held up the last two members of the team, one under each arm.

Kurt and Carlos had their tongues stuck out at the camera and were making peace signs. Kurt was still wearing his sun glasses, Carlos's lower face was covered in flakes of chocolate and drops of vanilla ice cream.

Team Ragnarok, named on account of a joke that one day they'd burn the world down with their antics, had left with so much promise. For a glorious two years it actually looked like they would make a real change on the world, and then…

And then Northguard happened, and Phil had to watch helplessly as they drifted apart or fell.

To this day he still wished he'd taken more stringent steps, thoughts of 'could have' or 'should have' invading his mind at quiet moments like this.

"Be careful." He said to the empty seat. "I've already had too many old students buried."

Xxx

 _Accessing Nevernest Archives…_

 _Retrieving Personnel Files…_

 _File retrieval completed._

 _Team RGCK (Ragnarok)_

 _Status: Dissolved_

 _Members: Roberto Lupine (Leader), Gregor Brobdith (Heavy Weapons Expert), Carlos Hunter (Speed Fighter) and Kurt Malcolm (Tactician)._

 _Graduated from Nevernest Academy, rewarded Graduates of the Year._

 _Involved in over three hundred individual instances of property damage, violence, fraud and theft. In the majority of these cases they were reacting to criminal elements, Satyra cells and other groups or individuals in the process of breaking the law._

 _Team Ragnarok took a proactive approach to combatting threats even before graduation, sometimes becoming at risk of expulsion or prosecution._

 _This fact led a great outcry of surprise, outrage and accusations of deception on their graduating night, given their track record compared to more conventional or ideal Huntsmen teams who had gone their entire term without breaking any rules or laws. Despite being condemned as reckless and destructive, there are no confirmed fatalities resulting from their activities and most cases of collateral damage were not on the same level as that caused by conflicts between more powerful Huntsmen or Heroes (i.e: Major Glory v Comrade Red)._

 _The reason behind their official recognition is alleged to be a direct result of their proactive (but usually destructive) pattern of behaviour, as the Headmaster has on more than one occasion stated that in spite of their antics and the legal consequences that they would bring to Nevernest over the course of their time there, Team RGCK had proven that they 'possessed the drive that every huntsman should have'. Despite this he still administered disciplinary actions to the team for most of these incidents, resulting in this team having one of the highest volumes of detentions._

 _Approximately two years post-graduation the team was officially dissolved after a violent encounter between Carlos Hunter and Gregor Brobdith at the village of (REDACTED) that ended with (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (REDACTED (REDACTED (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (REDACTED) following a mission spearheaded by Kurt Malcolm in the local area with the primary objective being (REDACTED)._

 _Present Status of Team Members_

 _Roberto Lupine: Alive, mobile, wanted for espionage in the USA._

 _Gregor Brobdith: KIA…?_

 _Carlos Hunter: Alive, mobile, on assignment._

 _Kurt Malcolm: Alive, mobile, wanted for espionage in the USA._

Xxx

End of Chapter


	3. Chapter Two: Going Nowhere

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

"What does it mean to reconcile?" Tom asked. "In the words of Nelson Mandela, reconciliation means working together to correct the legacy of past injustice. Wise words." He nodded. "It's something that can't be forced upon you. Only you can work towards it, but sometimes it takes more than just you to reach it. The longer you try to put it off, the longer you allow that injustice to thrive. So by this logic, the first step towards reconciliation…"

He activated the central view screen and leaned back in his chair to relax. "Is finding the one you seek to reconcile with."

Xxx

 **Chapter Two: Going Nowhere**

 **Grimmfall, City Hall, Ten minutes later**

" _You'd better not be gone for three whole months this time, Mister!_ " Melissa Hunter chastised, glaring at Carlos through the screen of his tablet. " _I mean it, or you're on the couch for a year!_ "

"I'll miss you too, hun." Carlos murmured, smiling lazily with half lidded eyes as he settled into the cockpit of the Eagle-class jump ship. "It should only be a few days at worst, less if Roberto still hasn't had first contact with a barber."

" _And make sure Kurt gets this from Sarah: if he ends up in Federal prison, she's selling his prized collection of sun glasses!_ "

"Yikes." Carlos stifled his laughter, picturing how his erstwhile teammate would take that. "You know it's serious if she's touching the shades."

The face of Charles 'Charlie' Hunter, the youngest in the family, poked into the transmission's frame from Melissa's right-hand side. " _Kick Grimm butt, dad!_ " He cheered, joined by his brother Robert on the left and their sister Ellie…who had apparently gotten hold of her grappling hook given Melissa's annoyed glance and the fact that the oldest Hunter child was hanging upside-down.

" _Don't encourage this!_ " Melissa snapped, her demand going unheeded as the three waved to him. " _Carlos, I mean it: you come back soon and…and you come back in one piece._ " She tried to prevent it, but the rage leaked out of her voice and turned her command into a plea. " _Please._ "

"Hey, hey, hey now…Mel…" Carlos held the tablet up so that his face was illuminated by the sunlight filtering in through the cockpit canopy and flashed a toothy grin. "I promise you…that if anything happens to me the thousand techno bet I put in the dead pool over at the club will keep you nice and comfy for a long time."

" _Ugh, typical!_ " Melissa swung her hands up and stormed out of the image.

"Charlie: art practice, once every night for thirty minutes." Carlos turned his attention to his children. "You wanted into the art club, so you need to put the time in. Keep working on those sketches no matter what you get wrong and you'll start getting spacing and proportions down. We all gotta start somewhere kiddo, so don't quit just because it doesn't come easy."

" _Alright dad._ " Charlie pouted, fuming over the multiple cases of having to submit stick figure art compared to the things some of his classmates would put out.

"When I get back you can try drawing me snoozing on the couch again." Carlos promised "Rob, if I find out you tried hiring a bikini model to pose for Charlie…again…it likely means your mom already knows, making any threat I could think of about as useful as an aquaphobe in a Leviathan raid. So…just don't do it again, alright pal?"

" _No promises, pops._ " Robert grinned mischievously. " _Buuuuut there's now…less of a chance of that happening again now that I think about it._ "

"Taking your word for that, you little monster." Carlos snorted in amusement. "Ellie?"

" _I already encrypted the numbers on every bikini model agency in town for the house phone, all the tablets and the super secret not-so-hidden man cave's hotline._ " She nodded. " _Working my way up to block the other categories of models now._ "

"Loving the foresight, sweetie." Carlos blew a kiss at the screen and ignored the chorus of disgust and embellished claims of viral infection stemming from a strain of cooties that followed. "Don't any of you drive your mom or your baby sitters too nuts before I get back."

" _You're already doing a great job of that!_ " Melissa reappeared, shooing the kids out of view and then out of the room before she sat down in front of the camera again. " _Look, just promise me that you won't fight with Kurt when you see him. You guys always fight unless Sarah and I or the kids are in the room._ "

"Roberto will be there." Carlos assured her. "He kept us apart before, he'll do it again if…" He clenched his teeth into a forced smile. "If Kurt and I can't find common ground."

" _That's really the best I'm getting out of you, I know it._ " Melissa shook her head. " _I meant what I said before though: come back to us or I'll march out to Nowhere myself, sew you back together and drag you back here. I don't care if you'd look like Frankenstein afterwards!_ "

"Frankenstein's monster." Carlos corrected.

" _Don't correct me when I'm ranting threats at you, Mister!_ " Melissa jabbed a finger towards the camera.

"Is now a bad time to remind you how cute you look when you're worried?" Carlos asked, fondly recalling the thousand other calls they'd had with similar lines of discussion.

" _Oh you…"_ Melissa chuckled and rubbed her eyes. " _I'm more worried that you'll be the death of me long before yourself._ "

"I'll see you in a few days, hun." Carlos blew another kiss, only this time it was met with Melissa turning her head to one side to 'catch' it on one cheek. "Also, I think the kids are going to be playing Cootie Quarantine again based on all the background noise. You might want to get going."

" _Oh Glob, you're right!_ " Melissa shot to her feet. " _Gotta go, bye! Charles Hunter, you keep your hands off of that hose young ma-_ " The transmission was ended before Carlos could see how effective this warning turned out to be.

"Ah…" Carlos propped his feet up on the console. "Fight the good fight, hun." He mused as the Eagle's vertical thrusters fired, pushing the craft upwards. "And may Glob protect you from those gremlins we love so much."

Xxx

 **Nowhere, SMP Mobile Aerial Command Centre, altitude approximately twenty thousand feet**

Private Peter 'Public' Shepherd stared at the three-dimensional topographical layout of the surrounding arid terrain. Drones deployed a hundred-strong were scattered into the valleys and plains under the guise of a training exercise, transmitting and updating information on everything they saw while a commandeered geological survey satellite in orbit added its own powerful sensors to the search effort. This area, barely ten miles in diameter, was the closest that he had been able to narrow down in the search for the now ex-communicado members of Team RGCK. Millions of dollars in military funds had been put into this manhunt and every minute that passed without results was another that his superior would have to justify to a panel of increasingly irate overseers.

"How does someone that hairy manage to disappear without a trace?" Several meters behind Private Public, a figure clad in modified military grade body armour complete with a sealed gasmask and helmet spun a serrated combat knife between his gloved fingers as he leaned against a waist-high rail. "Guy leaves a trail a toddler could follow and suddenly becomes a master of evasion. Are we even sure he's still here?"

"Oh they're here alright." Peter nodded. "I might not be able to pin down the exact spot but they're still in this sector and they're not moving far enough to indicate that they're anywhere near the perimeter."

"In the words of many a wise man." The armoured man slid the knife into a thigh mounted scabbard and stood upright. "You want to find something? Use your own two eyes, because so far you've been less useful than I'm comfortable with, Private."

"Hey now, without my semblance you wouldn't even be within a mile of the targets!" Private Public protested, turning to face Robert 'Big Bob' Pataki. "And if memory serves, they still slipped past you four times before now. And if you're going to resort to pointing fingers when the General calls in I'll tell you right now: he won't care who is more at fault between us, because in his eyes we'll both have failed just as badly."

"The only difference being that unlike you, I don't lick Specific's boots so much that my ex-wife could nail them to a wall and use them to apply her makeup." Big Bob scoffed. "And I left threats of being a tattletale back in pre-school."

"Boys, really now," the flapping of wings came from overhead before an albino mobian with bat wings landed between them, "if you two finally just made out and got it over with you'd probably be able to put all this time and effort spent arguing into working together on finding Malcolm and Lupine."

Bob's hands balled into fists so tightly that the fabric of his gloves groaned with strain. "I'm not in the mood for your cheek, you rat-with-wings."

"Aw, and here I was about to share a tasty new scoop with you." Rouge the Bat winked, waving a tablet in one hand. "Fresh from my contacts in Grimfall."

This piqued Private Public's interest. "Did Sebben dispatch Hunter?" He asked urgently, holding out one hand for the tablet but making no move to take it. This was one way of earning a couple brownie points from Rouge, who obliged this courtesy by handing it to him so he could scan the contents. "Just like the General suspected. The Infernal Huntsman is on an Eagle jump ship and en route to our coordinates, ETA: thirty minutes."

Big Bob chuckled. "The Infernal, you say? Well, this just cured my boredom." He pulled out his own tablet and dialled a number. "But lets change the playing field a little before he gets here."

"What are you planning?" Private Public asked, wary of the former beeper salesman.

"Oh, nothing too big." Big Bob sent a message and pocketed the tablet. "Between the three members of Team Ragnarok still breathing today, we now know the exact route of one of them. The other two have gone to ground and with how things are looking they'll slip past us all over again. So either we find them first…or give them a reason to come out."

He picked up a collapsible compound bow and extended it out to its full size. "Can anybody say 'bait'?" He asked, smirking beneath his mask as he left the bridge.

Xxx

 **Eagle-class jump ship GFE-92, enroute to the Town of Nowhere**

(Heat of the Moment by Asia)

"It was the heat of the moment!" Carlos sang, one foot shifting back and forth in tune with the music from his tablet. "Telling me what your heart meant!" He pressed a fist over his heart and held the other one up. "The heeeeat of the moment shone in your eyes!"

The arid plains of Nowhere passed beneath him, stretching out across the horizon to be broken by the occasional jutting cluster of hills and cliffs. The sky was clear, save for a few puffs of white cloud, and the external temperature read at…let's just say Carlos was very glad that he'd never needed sunscreen like most others.

"It was the-"

 _Beep_ - _beep_!

Carlos tapped his tablet once to stop the music and brought his feet down off of the controls. "Re-engage manual interface." He commanded and took hold of the control stock. "Bring up sensor readout."

The Eagle's RADAR screen indicated two unregistered objects appearing just at the edge of sensor range. Carlos' hand barely touched his headset before they both winked out of view while their vector indicated they were on an intercept course.

 _Category_ : _Stealth_. _A_ _means_ _of_ _disguising_ _an_ _air_ _craft_ _from_ _RADAR_ _based_ _detection_. Carlos rubbed his chin. _My money's on…what is stealth paint that dissipates radio waves before they can bounce back? No, no…then they'd never have shown up at all. Rather…what is a hard-light/gravity dust field?_

RADAR relied on sending out radio waves and reading them as they were bounced back, but as technology advanced even further someone had found an application for both Hard-Light and Gravity Dust, creating a field around an aircraft with the former and projecting a gravity bending influence with the latter. Radio waves would pass around it, same with LADAR, and thermal seekers would be thrown off at too great a range thanks to the presence of Ice Dust Heat Sinks.

Full Spectrum Dust Cloak, or the FSDC System, compliments of Sanban Industries, more specifically Genki Sanban who oversaw the project. It was only applicable for craft below a certain size, otherwise it would create a massive gap in any sensor network large enough to drive a fleet of aircraft through…and paint with hundreds of missiles and bullets.

But for a couple fighter craft? It would work perfectly.

"Tablet: make note." Carlos adjusted his crash harness and took the auto-pilot off line. "If I survive this, talk to Genki about someone stealing her tech. End note. Make addendum: if I _don't_ survive this, haunt Genki from beyond the grave."

Based on their velocity before they vanished he had seconds at best. The one advantage he'd have was that FSD Cloaks made it impossible to engage in combat while raised, at least while the technology was in a state of infancy. The combination of Gravity and Hard-Light Dust interfered with computer targeting and made it more likely that a missile would detonate against the inside of the field unless his new admirers somehow got ahead of Genki on refining it.

As he veered off to the left one of the contacts reappeared on RADAR and a target-lock alert flashed. Carlos pounded the Chaff button on the stock and watched as the target locks vanished before two Dust missiles erupted in mid air behind him.

"Eagle-Niner-Two to Grimmfall Air Control, come in!" Carlos checked the jump ship's armaments. "Have been fired upon by unknown craft, two bogeys using FSD Cloaks! Requesting assistance five flipping minutes ago!"

He was met only with static.

"Grimmfall Air Control, come in!" He cursed under his breath and slapped a hand against the headset. "Piece of junk!"

Somewhat unfair both to the gear and the designer. His assailants, now both visible, could easily be jamming him or be using a nearby relay to get the job done. The Eagle was not equipped with electronic countermeasures sufficient to break through and contact Grimmfall with how far out he was from the city now.

He was on his own.

 _Okay Carlos, you've got two auto-cannons, nineteen more Chaff Canisters and…nothing heavier. Stupid armament limits._

One of the two bogeys pulled up recklessly close on his right flank. Jet black and the ideal size he'd imagined it to be. From here he could see that it was decorated with colourful flowers…and a set of perfect pearly teeth bared into a grin along the front, below the cockpit canopy. Its counterpart pulled up on his far side, demonstrating similar décor save for the teeth being more sharpened and feral.

"Great." Carlos drawled.

He received a hail over his headset. "Let's see what the party guests want to say." He tapped the 'speak' button. "This is Eagle-Niner-Two, go right ahead."

" _You have a choice, Mr Hunter: land or crash._ " A woman said." _Cooperate and we won't have to shoot you out of the air._ "

"Alright," Carlos nodded, "Holding course."

" _That's good-wait what did he just say?_ "

" _He said he'd hold course._ " The second pilot, a girl much younger than the first, snapped. " _Hey, moron! Land. Or. We. Will. Shoot. YOU!_ "

"Still holding." Carlos checked the terrain below. "Course remains steady."

" _Can he hear us? He can hear us, right?_ " The first pilot asked incredulously.

" _He's messing with us._ " The second pilot growled. " _I say we just blast him._ "

"Holding niiiiice-" Carlos pushed the Eagle into a steep dive. "Later, ladies!"

" _Son of a- open fire!_ "

Both jets dove after him and fired as Carlos dove into a narrow canyon, weaving his way through the confines of the adjacent cliff faces while one of the jets followed, acquiring a fresh target lock. He fired off the auto cannons and tore away sections of rock face ahead, dropping fragments as small as a grain of sand or as large as Carlos himself and ducking under the debris rain, using it as cover and breaking the target lock.

"Just a quick jaunt out to Nowhere, they said." Carlos said through clenched teeth as he scraped through a particularly narrow space. "All to help out my old buddy Kurt, I said."

He came open the end of the labyrinth and saw the wide open plains beyond. With his options limited his best hope would be to double back to GrimmFalll for help…or bring this fight to the ground.

"Oh Kurt." Carlos hit the auto pilot. "You are gonna owe me _big_ for this."

He grabbed Warhawk and raced to the aft compartment where he lowered the loading ramp. The jet bearing the feral grin was closing in, auto cannons ripping away small pieces from the Eagle.

" _Almost got him- wait what's he doing?_ "

"Giving you a front row seat, kiddo." Carlos tore the headset off and tossed it aside as he leapt clear of the ramp.

" _HOLY-_ "

Carlos turned into a cloud of ash flakes that the jet passed through, then he reformed and sank Warhawk into one of its wings, igniting the Fire Dust in the blade and cutting through the outer hull like butter. He ripped the sword up and out to cut through one of the stabilizers before gravity took hold. The jet lost altitude as it flew clear of the canyon and crashed moments after the pilot ejected.

As the ground race up to meet him Carlos engaged his semblance and arrested his own momentum, touching down as gently as a flake of snow before he reformed in a kneeling position. He stood up and extinguished Warhawk's blade as he watched the remaining fighter jet pull a sharp maneuver to come about and dip down towards the mouth of the canyon. It cut its acceleration and switched to a vertical-thrust system as it neared where the younger pilot touched down.

"Guess I'd better go introduce myself in person." Carlos slid Warhawk into its scabbard and took off, launching himself through the air and using his Semblance to travel from one point to another, cutting down the time it took for him to cross the distance.

Xxx

"Helga!" The older pilot helped to untangle her sister from the parachute. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Helga Pataki snapped, slapping away an offered hand. "Where is that guy?! He ruined my jet and I'm gonna clobber him for that!"

"We should signal the others first." Olga insisted, a firm hand keeping her younger sibling from running off. "We have him on the ground, his ship is long gone and probably on its way home. If we get the rest of the team here we can surround him and take him more easily."

"And listen to dad give one of his stupid lectures about doing it ourselves?!" Helga shrugged her sister's hand off her shoulder. "Nuts to that, we already outnumber him. Let's just get him ourselves and skip the lecture!"

A whistle put an end to their argument, revealing that Carlos stood on a rock outcropping overlooking where Olga's jet was now settled several meters away from where the sisters stood. "Think you're gonna have to get used to disappointing your old man…" He pretended to struggle to remember what he meant to say next. "…I'm sorry, are you the one called Olga? Your names are just so alike and all."

"Helga!" Helga snarled, pulling out a baseball bat which sprouted multiple spikes along its length. "Helga, numb-skull!"

"Alright, alright, easy." Carlos raised his hands placatingly. "You'll have to get used to disappointing your old man, _Helga Numb-Skull._ Happy?"

Olga held Helga back. "No!" She hissed. "That's what he wants. It's too late to pull back so we do it like you said: together."

"Then you won't be telling me where to find Kurt Malcolm and Roberto Lupine?" Carlos asked. "One's spiked haired and wears sun glasses literally all the time? Other looks like he's never had first contact with a razor or a barber?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr Hunter." Olga extended a quarter staff to its full length and spun it several times before both ends created Hard-Light blades. "Your team mates are fugitives from the United States government, and we can only assume you are here to offer them aid. Therefore: you are under arrest."

"Pretty sure you'll need to do some tap dancing to tip-toe that past a court." Carlos put one hand on Warhawk's hilt and pulled it one inch free. "Or you would if you weren't about to have the worst. Day. Ever."

 _Okay Carlos, let's recap. They're both trained by their dad, so they've got Huntsmen level training. And their Semblances…_

 **(** **Epic Chase Music – Run by Ross Bugden )**

Helga made the first move, putting on an intense boost of speed and swinging her spiked bat. Carlos evaded the first three swings and then grabbed onto the handle when the teenager over swung on the fourth. He used her own momentum to fling her away and into the side of Olga's jet.

 _Oh right, one's purely defensive and the other is purely offensive. Both ends of the spectrum. But which one was which?_

Olga's spear grazed several strands of hair as Carlos leaned out of its path. He jabbed his palm up towards her face but hit thin air as she contorted her body into a back flip and kicked him in the jaw as she moved back. Carlos rubbed his jaw and leaned his upper body out of the way of two jabs and jumped to avoid a sweep at his ankles. Helga rejoined the fight with a battle cry that gave her away, allowing Carlos to duck under a swing at the back of his head that almost hit Olga before the elder Pataki sister leaned just out of the way.

"Careful!" Olga chastised and continued her assault.

"You be careful!" Helga snapped and scrambled to her feet. "And stay out of my way!"

If both sisters worked in sync they might have stood a chance against him, but as it stood they only got in each other's way, Helga being doubly guilty of this. Olga at least made an effort to coordinate her efforts with her sister's brash and clumsy attacks and even seemed to endure in spite of Helga's unwillingness to cooperate, but Carlos found that he had little trouble against the duo after a solid decade of facing off against more experienced foes.

Finally Helga over swung again and Carlos sent her tumbling into her sister, knocking them both down. "C'mon kids, this has been a good warm up but you're not landing a hit on me." He called over.

Helga growled and slammed a fist into the dirt. "I'll show you-"

"Helga!" Olga grabbed her by the arm. "He's right. We won't accomplish anything if we're fighting one another as much as we fight him. Stop rushing ahead and start remembering what dad taught us."

Begrudgingly, the younger Pataki sister nodded and got up. "Fine. Hi-Lo-Hi?"

"Hi-Lo-Hi." Olga agreed, swapping her Hard-Light spear for a compound bow. "Go!"

Helga dashed towards Carlos and pressed a button on her bat which triggered a small charge of Wind-Dust hidden at the very tip. She swung low and generated a whirlwind which kicked up a cloud of sand. Carlos raised one hand to shield his eyes and heard the faint sound of a bow string being released. Only half a lifetime of honing his reflexes allowed him to catch the incoming arrow just short of it striking him in the chest, but it left him entirely distracted from Helga until she emerged from the cloud and wrapped her arms around his waist, the force of her tackle pushing him back almost a foot before his boots dug in.

"Nice try-" Carlos paused as he realized that he couldn't dislodge Helga, who was wreathed in a solid green cocoon of Aura and appeared entirely immovable. "Oh right, so you're the one with the defensive Aura."

"Not just that, old man." Helga smirked up at him as a shadow fell over them.

Carlos looked up and his expression fell. "Oh crap."

Olga, using a set of Gravity-Dust emitters in her boots' heels, had launched herself into the air and held position for the moment needed to line up a second shot and release a second arrow. Carlos tossed away the first and raised Warhawk so that the bolt struck the flat of the blade…but instead of deflecting off of the weapon it stuck fast and emitted an orange glow all along its length. A small capsule of Fire Dust near the flat grappler head was triggered by the energy flowing through the projectile.

In the instant before it detonated Carlos remembered what Olga's Semblance was. "Aw son of a-"

Both he and Helga were consumed in an erupting firestorm that turned the surrounding sand into glass and the air into plasma. Olga's Semblance, Glass Cannon, had robbed her of her Aura's protection at the cost of enhancing the explosive potential of the Fire Dust far beyond its regular limits, turning the thimble of Dust into a bomb great enough to level a building. The concussive shockwave caught her up and flung her away, but she was able to steady herself with her Gravity-Dust boots before she could collide with anything, just as she'd planned.

After landing she hurried back towards the detonation site. Her jet had been caught in the blast radius, but its Hard-Light barrier had activated in response to the sudden burst of heat just in time to spare the craft from the worst of the damage. Still flyable, given a little maintenance, and a small price to pay, especially with the military footing the bill for this mission.

Helga was standing where she expected to find her, still encased in her Overshield, but Carlos was nowhere to be found. "Helga!" She raced over as her sister dismissed the barrier and stretched. "Where did he go?"

"Don't look at me, I didn't let go." Helga replied. "You must've blown him apart. You overdid it."

"No, that would have only been enough to drain his aura." Olga shook her head and looked around. "You remember what he did to your jet, right?"

"Yeah, he turned into a puff of smoke." Helga looked around at the glass that surrounded her feet.

"Not smoke…" Olga looked up and caught sight of a single flake of ash that hung in front of her. "…ash!"

Overhead, thousands of ash particles had been scattered by the explosion only to be drawn back in by the ensuing vacuum formed from the oxygen being rapidly burnt away and pushed outwards. This resulted in the surrounding atmosphere being pulled inwards to fill this gap almost as quickly as it formed…pulling with it the many ash particles from which Carlos formed and dropped down on top of the sisters.

Olga never stood a chance. Her Aura was still drained from the use of her Semblance and would have recharged in another few moments if she hadn't been so sure that their plan had worked. Carlos delivered a punch that knocked the young woman out while Helga found herself pinned facedown in the dirt.

"Hey! Get off!" She snarled and struggled as Carlos kept one hand on the back of her head. "I sat let go you creep!"

"Kid, if I were anybody else you'd be dead meat for trying to blow me up like that." Carlos told her, the sheer venom in his voice making Helga freeze. "Lucky for you, I ain't that sort of guy. Your sister here will have a concussion after taking a hit like that with no Aura to protect her, so you can either waste time fighting me or tend to her until help arrives. What's it gonna be?"

"You…!" Helga's eyes passed over Olga's unmoving form. "Alright. Alright! Just get off me and go!"

"Good to see that sisterly love trumps business." Carlos let her up but kept her in his sights as she scrambled over to Olga's side. "Take my advice, kid: stop following your old man around before it gets one or both of you killed."

"Will you just buzz off before I change my mind?!" Helga demanded, carefully turning Olga over onto her back.

Carlos sighed, shook his head and slid Warhawk into its scabbard. "Just can't help some people." He muttered and walked away…pausing to slice through one of the landing struts on the already damaged jet, just to make sure it would be that much harder to get it airborne and on his tail later on.

As he disappeared through the still settling clouds of dirt surrounding the battleground Helga reached for her radio. "Dad…it's Helga."

" _Status?_ "

"My jet's totalled, Olga's is…salvageable." She explained. "But he caught Olga without her Aura up. She needs medical attention. He…got away while I was too far to help."

She knew her father was smarter than he looked, but hoped that he wouldn't piece together minor details such as her parachute being nowhere to be found (as it had been incinerated in the explosion) or why Olga would have gone to ground while in pursuit of a target.

" _I expect better after this._ " Robert Pataki growled. " _But is the target earthbound?_ "

"Affirmative. He ditched his jump ship and left it on auto pilot."

" _Sebben won't send help, not with the US military scouring Nowhere._ " Robert said. " _At least you accomplished your secondary objective. Stand by for med-evac to Mobile Command. Over and out._ "

Helga sighed and tossed the radio into the dirt nearby. "Hang in there Olga." She said to her unconscious older sister. "We'll be out of here soon."

Xxx

 _Accessing Nevernest Archives…_

 _Retrieving Personnel Files…_

 _File Retrieval Completed._

 _Helga Pataki_

 _Aura: Green_

 _Semblance: Overshield_

 _Description: Helga's Aura is temporarily amplified and concentrated into the form of a shield that coats her entire body. As a drawback this leaves Helga unable to move, but renders her virtually invulnerable to outside force. It is able to discriminate between what it protects or protects against based on what threats Helga is consciously aware of._

 _Xxx_

 _Olga Pataki_

 _Aura: Orange_

 _Semblance: Glass Cannon_

 _Description: Olga is able to utilize her Aura to enhance the attacks of her weapons at the cost of forsaking any Aura based protection for herself. In a strange anomalous twist her abilities are not effective against her sister Helga's Overshield, which instead deflects it. This has been utilized to the benefit of both sisters in combat on more than one occasion._


	4. Chapter Three: Old and New

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

"A house divided against itself cannot stand." TOM stated. "Just like with anything, a strong foundation is the most essential part of a team. While the mightiest warrior can be helpless on their own, the weakest warrior working in conjunction with others and playing to their strengths can be the deadliest threat. So don't be so quick to turn down a helping hand, because you never know when you'll really need it."

He tapped the control interface on his chair's armrest and leaned back to enjoy the show.

Xxx

( _A village surrounded by a crumbling wall is in flames, with bodies of Faunus and Mobians strewn about. A young man, Carlos Hunter, stands before the blaze, eyes wide in horrified shock. The flames are reflected in his irises as a figure emerges from the embers and slowly turns towards him. Cut to black.)_

 **Human by Rag'n Bone Man starts playing**

( _A wide shot shows the cityscape of Grimmfall. Quickly zooms in towards a bar on the outskirts where Carlos sits up as if suddenly awakening from a dream. He seems momentarily shaken before his table, laying next to where his head had been laid, turns on. His attention is drawn to it immediately._ )

 _ **I'm only human…**_

 _ **I'm only-**_

 _ **I'm only-**_

( _Carlos exhales and picks up the tablet, pocketing it and slapping payment on the counter as he hurries out of the bar._ )

 **GRIMMFALL: RAGNAROK**

 _ **I'm only human…**_

 _ **Human…**_

 _(Carlos stops out in front and the camera focuses in on his face before it becomes replaced by Kurt Malcolm's in a desert setting. Then Roberto Lupine's in a deep jungle. And then to Phil Ken Sebben before it pans out to show him staring at a picture of Team Ragnarok's graduation ceremony.)_

 _ **Maybe I'm foolish**_

 _ **Maybe I'm blind**_

 _ **Thinkin' I can see through this**_

 _ **To see what's behind**_

 _(Cuts to Carlos standing in a desert environment in a ravine, with gun wielding figures aiming down at him. Big Bob is perched with an arrow drawn back in his bow while his daughters Olga and Helga stand to either side of him, arms crossed and smirking down at Carlos. Zeke and Josephine are on the opposite side with gun-arm and pistols respectively levelled. Rattlesnake Jake stands in front of Carlos and Rouge the Bat reclines on a rock nearby, casting a flirtatious wink.)_

 _ **Got no way to prove it**_

 _ **So maybe I'm blind**_

 _(Carlos reaches for his sword, Warhawk, and begins to draw it from over his shoulder. Scene cuts to him slicing through an Ursa Grimm before turning into a cloud of ashes that flies swiftly through a horde of Grimm. He reforms and swings is sword upwards towards a towering armoured figure only for it to be deflected, leading to a quick exchange of blows as Carlos dips, weaves and jumps to avoid savage and powerful swings from his foe.)_

 _ **But I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _(Carlos succeeds in a downwards strike that knocks the armoured giant's helmet off, but what Carlos sees beneath leaves him shocked and stunned as his enemy raises their sword overhead and brings it down towards him.)_

 _ **Take a look in a mirror**_

 _ **And what do you see**_

 _ **Do you see it clearer**_

 _ **Or are you deceived**_

 _(As the shadow of the falling sword grows closer to Carlos' horrified expression the scene cuts to him standing, shirtless, in a bathroom and staring sullenly at his own reflection, partly obscured by condensation on the mirror. Carlos' jaw clenches and he drives one fist through the mirror in frustration and sees a doppelgänger of himself on the other side, staring back mockingly with eyes that look like they are radiating fire while it and Carlos grab one another by the throat.)_

 _ **Cause I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _(Carlos' doppelgänger leans forward through the shattered mirror, and the flames in its eyes are reflected in his own eyes. Cuts back to Carlos in the midst of combat as he turns into a cloud of ashes to narrowly avoid the downwards stroke and reforms above his foe, whose face remains shadowed, and ignites Warhawk's blade as he stabs downwards. Cuts to Kurt staring at a wall with a series of newspaper articles, pictures and notes with pins connected by lengths of red twine, indicating a diverse series of events and individuals are somehow related. At the center of it are the pictures of Team Ragnarok arranged around a symbol of a symbol with three spikes pointed downwards, two pronged horns pointed upwards and a gap in the center resembling an eye.)_

 _ **Oh, some people got the real problems**_

 _ **Some people out of luck**_

 _ **Some people think I can solve them**_

 _ **Lord heavens above**_

 _(Roberto rushes forward as Carlos is flung into the dirt close by, snarling as his upper body muscles visibly bulge and he slams into the armoured giant, encircling its waist with his arms as he gets around behind it and lifts it off its feet, into a suplex. Kurt appears next with five figures in distinctly coloured armour, offering Carlos a hand as the rest race past and engage the Grimm closing in around them. Carlos is stunned by Kurt's appearance but reaches out to take the hand.)_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _(Scene transitions to a younger Carlos surrounded by fire and reaching up as a younger Kurt races away. Carlos looks devastated but then angered by this as the flames extinguish and flakes of ash rain around him as he drives a fist into the ground. Cuts back to Phil Ken Sebben's office where he raises a hand towards his eye patch while Callie Briggs stands at his side, statuesque. The camera pans out from his office and over Grimmfall to an airship with Carlos seated in the back and staring out at the city through a window.)_

Xxx

 **Chapter Three: Old and New**

 **SMP Mobile Aerial Command Centre, Command Deck**

" _They LOST HIM!?_ " The hard-light projection of General Specific snapped a pointer in half, tossed it aside, held out one hand expectedly to an unseen aide who handed him a second pointer…which was _also_ snapped in half in the General's tantrum. " _What am I paying you for?!_ "

"Don't know about the rest," Big Bob rolled his eyes, "but I seem to be getting paid for _baby sitting_ with how you've been keeping me in reserve up here."

" _Don't you give me lip!_ "

"Little man, I wouldn't give you tongue, much less lip." The sports themed veteran deadpanned.

As General Specific raged and snarled, Private Public quickly interposed himself between the two. "Sir! Sir, there is some good news."

" _What is it?!_ "

"Around the time that we lost track of Hunter, our patrols found the Tertiary Subjects taken from the Darklands facility." Public explained. "It seems that Malcolm and Lupine left them in a safe zone to continue combing Deadman's Vale. Our sources have independently confirmed that the last of the five energy signatures is located somewhere within that area, which greatly cuts down the amount of space we need to search."

" _You find it before they do, got it?!_ " General Specific snapped before somewhat composing himself, straightening out his tie and smoothing out his coat. " _I don't need to remind you what will happen if we lose out on the find of the century._ "

"Butts. Mount. Fireplace." Big Bob drawled, paraphrasing the regular threat that the good General had given him and the rest of the hired mercenaries as the job ended up dragging out. "The kids are on a prison transport set for Mobile-Delta. Even if they can't give us Malcolm and Lupine, this means that AE-5 won't be going anywhere without one of them to activate it. Malcolm knows that. He'll come for them. We just need to close the trap around him when he does."

" _Good!_ " The General. " _Now if you'll excuse me, there has been a new breakthrough on Project Iron Fleece which the Mad Scientist has been eager to share._ "

" _Angry! Angry Scientist!_ " A heavily accented voice called from the background. " _How many times am I having to be telling you?! I am an Angry Scientist!_ "

" _Yeah, whatever._ " General Specific rolled his eyes. " _General Specific, over and out!_ "

His image disappeared and the shutters over the command centres' observation canopy folded back out of view.

"Finally." Rouge the Bat yawned as he dropped down from the upper level. "Don't know how many more brain cells I could lose, listenin' to that one."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Big Bob demanded. "You've dealt with Hunter before, why aren't you leading the search for him?"

"Oh now sweetheart, you should know that the best way to catch anything is with the right bait." Rouge winked and pulled something out from under her heart-shaped chest piece…revealing a micro-transmitter. "You see, Hunter might look like a mindless brute on paper, but he and the rest of Ragnarok have the instincts of real soldiers. So humour me: what would a soldier caught in enemy territory with no hope of calling for help do?"

Big Bob took the transmitter, turning it over in one hand. "I know what I'd do: capture an enemy radio and jack the frequency on it so I can listen in on enemy radio traffic." His eyes narrowed as he shoved the micro-transmitter back into Rouge's hands. "You waited for Hunter to jack the line and fed him the General's transmission."

"Bingo." Rouge winked.

"What?!" Private Public balked. "You-you've compromised Mobile Delta!"

"You say 'compromised', I say 'laid the bait'." Rouge shrugged. "Why do you think Old Jake is already there?"

Big Bob put the pieces together in his head. Carlos had to have hacked the frequency Specific's goons used to keep in contact in the field, the one he and the other hired guns used to coordinate. So he had to have heard of Subjects T-One-through-Five and put together that they were connected to his old team mates.

He had options after that point, but knowing Hunter's priorities and history there was only one thing he'd do.

"I need to warn them." Private Public went for the nearest mic.

"Wait." Bob put one hand over the mic. "He won't go near Delta." He didn't take his eyes off of Rogue. "It's like you said: Hunter's got a soldier's instinct…and any soldier who just heard a General, no matter how incompetent, talk on an unsecure line about high value prisoners would think twice about acting on anything he hears from it. Especially if he hears that someone like Rattlesnake Jake is posted there.."

"Bingo, sugar." Rouge smirked. "But on the off chance that even an ounce of what he heard was genuine…"

"He won't go anywhere near Delta…" Big Bob released the mic and brought up the topograph projection, focusing in on a line of transports winding through Deadman's Vale. "He's going to hit the transport."

Xxx

bTransport Delta 1-3, en-route to Delta Mobile/b

The armoured carrier, supported by Gravity Dust thrusters, glided across the rough terrain beneath it, screened by two smaller Rovers with gunners paying keen attention to every nook and cranny that the column passed close to. They were trained to always expect trouble in the field, especially when they were carrying high-value prisoners the likes of the five figures stewing in the back compartment.

With Carlos Hunter, whose dossier had been dispersed to every unit in the area, prowling around? They held no illusion that they were moving with a target on their back and a bright sign that said 'Shoot here' pointing right at it.

"How'd someone like this guy ever graduate from Nevernest of all places?" The transport's co-pilot asked as she closed the dossier.

"I hear that Sebben shows real favouritism to types like his," the pilot chuckled, "Just lets them get away with anything they want."

"Types like him," she snorted, "are proof that the academies are useless. They just hand unhinged punks like this a Hunter license and expect him to be our first wave of defence? Put every Huntsman through some real training with a real instructors and nine out of ten will wash out, I guarantee it."

"What can I say, Liv?" The pilot shrugged. "Quantity over quality."

"If they didn't whine so much about having to take some actual responsibility we could probably have both." Liv muttered, turning her attention to the transport's sensor array as some static made the screen flicker. "But no. They just can't stand having Uncle Sam in charge, because then it stops being 'cool'."

In the midst of her rambling, Liv and her colleague were unaware of the stream of ashes slipping down through the vent overhead. These flakes gathered behind them and built up, reassembling Carlos' body in time for him to catch the tail end of the rant.

"And now we're stuck out in the middle of actual _Nowhere_ digging through dirt for some fugitives because of it!" Liv grumbled as the array, no longer impeded by a flurry of ash, transmitted a clear display to her. "Seriously, they could be anywhere in this sand box. They could be in Hole Number Eighty that we just passed, they could be behind that bush on the ridge, they could even be-"

"Liv!" The pilot called out in exasperation. "I get it. You're upset. This is graveyard duty. You hate it, you need someone to blame it on, but try to conduct yourself like you actually passed the psych-eval for this outfit."

Carlos slowly stood up and stretched to work out the kinks in his joints.

"Let's just drop these ones off so we can get back to patrol." The pilot's voice softened. "Maybe we'll get lucky and find these guys first. Snag ourselves a big promotion. How's that sound?"

Liv sighed and nodded glumly. "Yeah…maybe there is a bright side to all this."

"That's the spirit!" The pilot nodded enthusiastically. "Lets make this snappy and go hunt us some rogue hunters."

Carlos leaned forward and clamped one hand down on each of their shoulders. "Right behind you, pal." He said with a grin that one might label as that of a madman.

Xxx

A pair of high pitched shrieks from the cockpit pulled Takashi Shirogane from his nightmares with a gasp. He reflexively shot to his feet only for the restraint harness to pull him back into a sitting position. He grunted as he slammed into the uncomfortable metal seat and took in his surroundings before remembering where he was and who he had for company.

"Uh yeah, tried that, in case you were wondering." Lance, a young brunette man with tanned skin, deadpanned, sitting across from Shiro. "Welcome back!"

Next to him, the more fair skinned and hawk eyed Keith stared at the cockpit access door. "Quiet." He whispered. "Something's happening?"

Further aft on their side of the compartment, a young boy with disheveled hair reached up with his cuffed hands to ease his glasses back up along the bridge of his nose. "It's quiet now." Pidge whispered. "What do you think-"

Through the small slot in the wall next to him, he spotted in his periphery the form of one of the pilots being flung out onto the sands, rolling down a slope before vanishing into the expanding distance. The trailing escorts immediately accelerated and pulled up to one side of the moving transport, the gunner's turret brought to bear.

"What is it?!" The fifth and final occupant, easily the largest with his burly frame, square jaw and powerful shoulders offset only by the fear induced higher pitch of his voice. "Pidge?!"

"One of the pilot's got kicked out!" Pidge said before the second pilot quickly followed, forcing the Rover to swerve to one side to evade. "Make that both!"

Lance's eyes widened. "Then-then…"

He and Hunk exchanged panicked looks and screamed in unison. "Who's driving this thing?!"

The door hissed open, and Carlos leaned against one side while fixing the group with a vaguely irate stare. "It's called auto-pilot, kids." He said. "Now, either Kurt and Roberto invested in some heavy duty plastic surgery or they aren't here. I'm going to be extremely disappointed if they aren't."

"You-you aren't going to hurt us if you are, right?" Pidge asked.

"Kid, do I look like I work for these morons?" Carlos retorted and hit a button which released the restraint harnesses, including the wrist and ankle shackles moored to the floor. "I'm looking for a man who has never heard of personal grooming and a man whose sun glasses defy the laws of physics. Sound familiar?"

"Yeah!" Hunk beamed. "On Saturday cartoons!"

"Does this _look_ like a cartoon to you?" Carlos demanded.

"Well you kinda got that crazy look in your eyes like in the cartoons." Hunk mumbled defensively.

"Who are you and what do you want with Kurt and Roberto?" Keith asked.

"Ding-ding-ding! And winner of the category 'asking actual questions' is the pretty boy in red." Carlos clapped. "I'm Carlos Hunter, which you ought to know if you've been hanging around my wayward teammates since they went on the lamb. I'm here to save them, kick their asses and then save them some more. Now I have another question that I'll only ask once." He looked at the team with a serious expression. "…does anyone know how to fly this thing? The controls are weird."

"Real life or video game?" Lance asked.

"I'd like you to go on the corner and think on what you just asked." Carlos replied before Shiro stepped up.

"I can pilot it." He said. "You're Kurt and Roberto's teammate from Ragnarok, right? The Infernal Hunter?"

"Got it in one."

Shiro looked to the others. "We can trust him." He said. "Kurt said if Carlos Hunter got involved we could trust him."

"He said what now?" Carlos gaped as Shiro moved past him.

"He said WHAT now?!" Lance called from his corner at the back of the transport.

"Before he and Roberto left he told me that Carlos might be sent to find them." Shiro explained, reaching the pilot's seat and strapping himself in. "If he found us instead, we're supposed to tell him everything about Project Lionheart and why they helped us."

"Okay, good, exposition." Carlos jumped into the co-pilot seat and glanced to his side as the leading rover began to decelerate to come up on the transport's right. "Let's wait until we're done here. Shall we?"

"Disengaging auto-pilot!" Shiro threw a switch and gunned the transport's primary thrusters, pushing out from between the Rovers which began to pepper the reinforced hull with dust rounds. "We need the hard-light shields!"

"Found it!" Pidge squeezes past Carlos to press his hand to a screen which flashed red. "It's encrypted!"

"Okay, you clearly know more about this rig than me." Carlos used his semblance to relocate behind the chair. "You be co-pilot. I'm going to take care of our friends."

Suddenly, the hail of bullets, discernible as metallic clanking noises through the hull, stopped.

"They've…pulled out of range?" Pidge adjusted his glasses. "They can outrun us, why aren't they?"

Shiro stared ahead, hands tightening around the steering controls. "Because they have someone ahead on the trail."

Up ahead was an entire column of Rovers bearing down on them, with more closing in from the sides of the ravine, making use of their gravity dust boosters to make the descent safely.

"We're surrounded!" Lance latched onto Hunk.

"I'm too young to still go to jail!" Hunk latched onto Lance.

Keith handled the mounting pressure with relatively more grace. "What do we do?" He looked up at Carlos.

"Don't stop." Carlos immediately replied. "Whatever happens next, don't stop. Drive until you're sure that you're out of sight and ditch this rig. I'll find you again."

"What? What's going to happen?" Hunk asked, still holding up Lance in a bear hug.

"We're being hoodwinked, that's what." Carlos drew Warhawk and passed back up through the ceiling vent as a cloud of ash which reformed on the transport's roof.

There had to be no less than thirty Rovers converging on the lone transport, making no effort to slow down or orient themselves to match its speed and direction. Yet none of them opened fire, the gunners' masked faces unreadable behind the mounted gun barrels.

And yet among the wall of metal and glass, there was one Rover that didn't belong, hiding behind the shock and awe of this overwhelming assault. There was no gunner in it and it was actually veering to one side ever so slightly enough that it would avoid hitting the transport.

"Got you." Carlos kicked off of the transport and reformed above the Rover in question, igniting Warhawk as he. Swung down and cut clean through one side and out through the other, severing the front and back ends of the vehicle and sending both into out of control spins that ended against the side of the ravine.

The horde of Rovers dissipated, dissolving into nothing as if consumed by a thick mist and leaving the pathway clear. The transport continued onwards, with the faces of Lance, Hunk and Keith squeezed in around the view port on the side facing this event just before vanishing.

With a creak the driver's side door on the one true Rover's front half opened slowly…and then was kicked clean off its hinges before spray of gunfire forced Carlos to dive to be side, moving out of the firing arc as the shooter emerged from the bisected vehicle.

They stood at nearly seven feet, wearing a long duster over an exposed abdomen of scales that was sculpted to the physique of an Olympian god. A multibarreled chaingun was handled with the ease of a child's toy, being hauled up onto the serpentine mobian's shoulder.

"Carlosss Hunter…" Rattlesnake Jake drawled, tilting a wide rimmed hat up away from his eyes. "Not many ssssee through my sssemblanccce with sssuch eassse."

"You should have kept it small and simple." Carlos replied, keeping his guard up. "The devil is in the details. Then again…I should've expected that you wouldn't be sitting around at some crawler base."

Jake gave a rattling chuckle. "We're all entitled to one missstake, no?" He hefted the chaingun and brought it to bear on Carlos.

"All it takes is one to cost you your life." Carlos ignited Warhawk's blade once again. "I'm not in the mood for this. Stand down, slither away and-" He immediately was forced to repel a spray of bullets and dashed to one side as Jake followed, strafing the entire ravine floor and then its wall as Carlos ash-stepped to a low cliff and leapt between any areas with enough space for him to move. Any rocks he tried to shelter behind were chipped away and shattered in moments by Jake's seemingly endless barrage, but after almost thirty seconds of constant automatic fire the ammo belt feeding the chain gun ran dry.

Jake began to switch in a fresh ammo belt with practiced ease, managing it faster than most would have been able to reload a smaller firearm. It was still too long to bring the gun up before Carlos dove down from the ravine wall and kicked the snake mobian in the chest, making him slide back several meters without losing his footing. Carlos flipped back through the air and landed atop the bisected Rover's front section.

"I said." Carlos clenched is jaw. "I'm. Not. In. The mood."

"That'sss too bad." Jake chuckled, slapping the fresh chain of bullets into place. "Becaussse I have a pay check that sssaysss you're not leaving thisss canyon unlesss you're in hand cuffsss…or a body bag."

Carlos groaned in exasperation. "Dead or alive, you're coming with me, then?" He held Warhawk up in both hands. "Fine. Let's see if all that hype about you really means anything."

Xxx

End of chapter


	5. Chapter Four: Ashes

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

"What is denial?" TOM asked, patiently waiting for the elevator to reach the command deck. "A statement that something is not true. But nowadays it's tantamount knowingly denying something that is true. Some are afraid, some wish to not be reminded of some aspect of their past that has deeply scarred them."

He stepped off of the elevator. "But really, isn't it worse in the long run to refuse to confront the issue? To let it fester until it won't be ignored anymore?"

Easing himself into his seat, he brought the broadcast up and leaned back. "In the end it's up to you…but don't wait too long."

Xxx

( _A village surrounded by a crumbling wall is in flames, with bodies of Faunus and Mobians strewn about. A young man, Carlos Hunter, stands before the blaze, eyes wide in horrified shock. The flames are reflected in his irises as a figure emerges from the embers and slowly turns towards him. Cut to black.)_

 **Human by Rag'n Bone Man starts playing**

( _A wide shot shows the cityscape of Grimmfall. Quickly zooms in towards a bar on the outskirts where Carlos sits up as if suddenly awakening from a dream. He seems momentarily shaken before his table, laying next to where his head had been laid, turns on. His attention is drawn to it immediately._ )

 _ **I'm only human…**_

 _ **I'm only-**_

 _ **I'm only-**_

( _Carlos exhales and picks up the tablet, pocketing it and slapping payment on the counter as he hurries out of the bar._ )

 **GRIMMFALL: RAGNAROK**

 _ **I'm only human…**_

 _ **Human…**_

 _(Carlos stops out in front and the camera focuses in on his face before it becomes replaced by Kurt Malcolm's in a desert setting. Then Roberto Lupine's in a deep jungle. And then to Phil Ken Sebben before it pans out to show him staring at a picture of Team Ragnarok's graduation ceremony.)_

 _ **Maybe I'm foolish**_

 _ **Maybe I'm blind**_

 _ **Thinkin' I can see through this**_

 _ **To see what's behind**_

 _(Cuts to Carlos standing in a desert environment in a ravine, with gun wielding figures aiming down at him. Big Bob is perched with an arrow drawn back in his bow while his daughters Olga and Helga stand to either side of him, arms crossed and smirking down at Carlos. Zeke and Josephine are on the opposite side with gun-arm and pistols respectively levelled. Rattlesnake Jake stands in front of Carlos and Rouge the Bat reclines on a rock nearby, casting a flirtatious wink.)_

 _ **Got no way to prove it**_

 _ **So maybe I'm blind**_

 _(Carlos reaches for his sword, Warhawk, and begins to draw it from over his shoulder. Scene cuts to him slicing through an Ursa Grimm before turning into a cloud of ashes that flies swiftly through a horde of Grimm. He reforms and swings is sword upwards towards a towering armoured figure only for it to be deflected, leading to a quick exchange of blows as Carlos dips, weaves and jumps to avoid savage and powerful swings from his foe.)_

 _ **But I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _(Carlos succeeds in a downwards strike that knocks the armoured giant's helmet off, but what Carlos sees beneath leaves him shocked and stunned as his enemy raises their sword overhead and brings it down towards him.)_

 _ **Take a look in a mirror**_

 _ **And what do you see**_

 _ **Do you see it clearer**_

 _ **Or are you deceived**_

 _(As the shadow of the falling sword grows closer to Carlos' horrified expression the scene cuts to him standing, shirtless, in a bathroom and staring sullenly at his own reflection, partly obscured by condensation on the mirror. Carlos' jaw clenches and he drives one fist through the mirror in frustration and sees a doppelgänger of himself on the other side, staring back mockingly with eyes that look like they are radiating fire while it and Carlos grab one another by the throat.)_

 _ **Cause I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _(Carlos' doppelgänger leans forward through the shattered mirror, and the flames in its eyes are reflected in his own eyes. Cuts back to Carlos in the midst of combat as he turns into a cloud of ashes to narrowly avoid the downwards stroke and reforms above his foe, whose face remains shadowed, and ignites Warhawk's blade as he stabs downwards. Cuts to Kurt staring at a wall with a series of newspaper articles, pictures and notes with pins connected by lengths of red twine, indicating a diverse series of events and individuals are somehow related. At the center of it are the pictures of Team Ragnarok arranged around a symbol of a symbol with three spikes pointed downwards, two pronged horns pointed upwards and a gap in the center resembling an eye.)_

 _ **Oh, some people got the real problems**_

 _ **Some people out of luck**_

 _ **Some people think I can solve them**_

 _ **Lord heavens above**_

 _(Roberto rushes forward as Carlos is flung into the dirt close by, snarling as his upper body muscles visibly bulge and he slams into the armoured giant, encircling its waist with his arms as he gets around behind it and lifts it off its feet, into a suplex. Kurt appears next with five figures in distinctly coloured armour, offering Carlos a hand as the rest race past and engage the Grimm closing in around them. Carlos is stunned by Kurt's appearance but reaches out to take the hand.)_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _(Scene transitions to a younger Carlos surrounded by fire and reaching up as a younger Kurt races away. Carlos looks devastated but then angered by this as the flames extinguish and flakes of ash rain around him as he drives a fist into the ground. Cuts back to Phil Ken Sebben's office where he raises a hand towards his eye patch while Callie Briggs stands at his side, statuesque. The camera pans out from his office and over Grimmfall to an airship with Carlos seated in the back and staring out at the city through a window.)_

Xxx

 **Chapter Four: Ashes**

 **Nowhere, Deadman's Vale**

The dust kicked up from the crash finally came to settle as Carlos and Rattlesnake Jake faced one another down. Both fighters kept their gazes locked on one another, waiting for the subtlest signal as the seconds ticked by. Shadows cast by the surrounding rocks and cliffs shifted, inching across the ground as the sun dipped lower.

Rattlesnake Jake emitted soft hiss with each breath, his serpentine eyes boring into his target. A stray breeze upset enough sand particles to create a momentary haze which flowed around the two. When it finally settled the Mobian's trigger finger slid inside the Gatling-gun's trigger guard.

He didn't get a single shot off before Carlos lunged and kicked the quartet of barrels off vector, sending a barrage into the opposite cliff face. Still spinning in midair from the motion of the wide kick, Carlos brought Warhawk around, tip aimed directly at Jake's throat and plunged forward. In a display of inhuman flexibility the mobian dropped his weapon and dipped back, arching his body so steeply that he easily kept clear of Warhawk's edge. Then his hands found the ground and his legs swung up, striking Carlos in the ribs and launching him skyward.

 _Nimble little snake, this one._

Carlos ash-formed and shot back downwards, reforming in mid-fall and igniting Warhawk in time to slice through the barrels of Jake's gun as he tried to bring it up.

 _But now he's a nimble snake without a gun. That's one worry off the list._

Jake hissed and drove a fist up into Carlos' ribs only to plough through a fresh cloud of ash flakes which coalesced behind him. No sooner than they had reformed into a solid did Jake's tail sharply knock Carlos' legs out from under him, momentarily leaving him airborne before Jake drove him into the ground with an axe kick.

 _But not helpless!_ Carlos realized and brought is legs up, wrapping them around Jake's leg and forcing it to bend, bringing the mobian down far enough for Carlos to punch him right in his fanged jaw before disengaging and flipping back to a standing position.

It was at that point that he saw the purple haze expanding around him. A sharp jolt shot down his spine, carrying a warning from his eyes, through the brain and to every muscle in his body.

 _Purple dust! Move!_

He tried to ash-step out of range, but halfway through his body was forced back into a single solid form and his chest and throat burned as the purple dust particles already inhaled did their work on his anatomy. The mutagenic substance which had made Rattlesnake Jake particularly infamous was already beginning to physically distort his figure, bulging sections of flesh and attempting to reshape bone and sinew…

Attempting being the key word.

"What'sss thisss?" Jake rubbed his jaw, eyes wandering up from the canister he'd dropped to the smouldering black flesh that began to spread across Carlos's neck and jawline, down his arms past where his sleeves ended and undoubtedly from many other spots on the Huntsman's body.

They were focused around the mutations already wrought by the dust. Bright red cracks broke through the blackened shell of Carlos' flesh before it crumbled away to reveal new, unscarred and certainly unaltered flesh. As Carlos strode out from the purple dust cloud the infected tissue flakes off of him and was carried off in the breeze.

"Nice trick." The Infernal Huntsman growled as the last of the charred layer fell away from his face. "But not a lot of good up against me."

"How?!" Jake snarled. "No one has ever resisted it before, not like that!"

"Well if you'd like, the line of people whose concept of 'never' that I've royally thrown off starts out front and goes around the block three or four times." Carlos set Warhawk ablaze again and spun, delivering a swift kick to Jake's face as the mobian stared at him in disbelief. "Or put shortly: get in line you slimy lookin' git!"

Jake returned with a vengeance, engaging Carlos up close. Despite his emphasis on the use of his gatling-gun and purple dust, the bounty hunter was by no means incapable of holding his own in a fist fight. On the contrary, even with two of his weapons either disabled or ineffective and the third (his semblance) already shown to be less effective than desired Jake showed himself to be a match for his armed opponent.

An uppercut launched Carlos onto a cliff halfway up one side of the ravine where he was quickly joined by Jake and only just avoided being crushed as the mobian made his landing.

"What wasss that trick?" Jake demanded, striking Carlos across the face. "Wasss that your real sssemblance?! The ssso called 'Infernal' sssemblance?!"

Carlos weaved out of the way of the next blow and rammed his elbow into Jake's outstretched darn to force it to one side.

"None." He bashed Warhawk's pommel between Jake's eyes.

"Of." Next Carlos swung an uppercut coated in a nimbus of ash flakes and sparking cinders that lifted Jake several feet up.

"Your." Carlos grabbed one of Jake's ankles and slammed the mobian down before flinging him back down the ravine and leaping after him.

"BUSINESS!" Carlos landed on Jake's chest, digging a knee into a scaled abdomen and driving his fist into Jake's temple.

The mobian spat out a glob of blood into the sand next to him and looked up. Carlos struck an intimidating figure, towering over him with section of his skin glowing brightly as if superheated. These were areas containing cuts and bruises from moments or minutes ago…all of them now melting out of sight before Jake's eyes to leave the almost sigil-like figures glowing against fair new skin.

"Had enough?" Carlos demanded.

"I'm only getting ssstarted." Jake grinned and dissolved out of view.

Carlos quickly stomped on the now unoccupied space and looked around as the winds seemed to pick up. A solid wall of sand rose up around him, blocking out his view of his surroundings entirely. Through the haze he could see the tall figure of Rattlesnake Jake…in several spots around him.

"It'sss like you sssaid." Jake stepped out of the dust only to vanish as soon as Carlos stabbed through his chest. "The devil isss in the detailsss."

"You're learning." Carlos slid a dust cartridge into Warhawk's hilt while keeping the blade lit. "Just not fast enough."

Multiple copies of Jake leapt from the wall of dust, coming from every direction. Carlos twisted around, pivoting on one foot as he brought Warhawk down in an underhanded swing. The dust-fed flames coating the blade vanished as the wind-dust canister in the hilt struck the loose grains of sand beneath him. Unlike Jake's illusion this was a genuine obstacle which affected both fighters…particularly Jake who hadn't been expecting such a move.

Any copy that still came straight at him he ignored, focusing in on the one that threw an arm up to protect its face as it coughed and hacked.

 _Got you now, you slippery bastard._

Carlos slipped in behind Jake and looped his arms around the mobian's middle, using his momentum and aura enhanced strength to lift him off his feet and swing him down onto his head via a suplex. Getting back up, Carlos followed with a kick that launched Jake into the wreckage of the same rover that he had arrived in. The illusionary dust cloud dissolved as Carlos approached the fallen mobian, appearing unimpressed.

"If that'll be all, I'll be going." Carlos sheathed Warhawk. "Don't let me catch you in my sights again or I'll make a nice new snakeskin jacket."

Slumped against the bisected Rover, Jake glared through his one non-swollen eye. "You…will never leave thisss desssert alive…"

"Classic threat." Carlos held up one finger in a gesture that transcended language barriers and began to walk away. "Enjoy shedding those bruises."

Jake glanced up to see a drone hovering over the ravine. A quick check of his tablet showed a single message from Private Public.

'Inbound strike package. Thirty seconds from reception of this message. STALL HIM.'

"Wish granted." Jake whispered and reached out with his semblance. "Twenty-five and counting."

Carlos didn't make it thirty feet before Deadman's Vale dissolved away around him. He gave an irritated groan and turned around. "Okay, that's it! Looks like Melissa's getting some snakeskin boots for her birth-"

He saw a collection of burning buildings laid out in front of him. Pillars of smoke stretched up towards a night sky turned orange by the blaze. Demolished wreckages of cars were strewn about the street…as well as no small amount of bodies.

He knew this place.

"No…" Carlos felt his blood run cold. "No, not this…"

Nearby, a house collapsed, silencing the screams of those within.

"Please." Carlos tried to look away. "Stop."

The screams grew closer. A trail of destruction was carved through the settlement, growing closer to him as more souls were snuffed out. What began as purely visual took on a whole new life of its own, complete with smoke choking the air, the heat of real flames…and the dripping of real blood as Carlos was pulled back to what felt like another life entirely.

And right at the end of the street: a figure of gargantuan stature lumbered out into view…dragging in each hand a limp form which it tossed onto the street before Carlos.

It was almost a mercy when a missile crashed down on the giant and snapped Carlos out of the illusion, flinging him back through the air and into darkness.

" _...have absolutely no concept of self control!"_

" _Arrogant. Reckless. Destructive little brats!"_

" _Should just lock you up and throw away the key…"_

" _They're getting away!"_

" _Kurt! Wait! We can't leave them like this!"_

" _Come back…please…"_

" _It wasn't yourfaultwasn'tyourfaultwasn'tyourfault-"_

"Mr Hunter, wake up!"

Someone was holding him under the arms, dragging him. Gunfire filled the air, several landed close enough to kick up small spouts of earth.

"Get him on board!" Shiro shouted, handling an assault rifle with practiced ease as he held off armoured figures spilling out of a line of Rovers. "Hurry!"

"Uh, guys? That snake guy is getting back up!" Lance pointed to where the figure of Rattlesnake Jake emerged into full view.

Shiro turned and fired off a controlled burst aimed for the centre of mass, but the mobian's aura flashed into view and deflected the slugs before he flung a canister through the air.

"Grenade!" Hunk shouted, hauling Carlos up a metal ramp with help from Pidge.

"I've got it!" Lance raced down the ramp and raised another rifle.

 _No. No!_

" _Don't!"_ Carlos shouted, too late.

Lance shot the purple dust grenade out of the air, letting it spread out further as it fell towards them.

"Purple Dust!" Shiro waved his arm sharply. "Everybody back inside! Keith, get ready to drive!"

"Wait! Mr Hunter's sword!" Lance spotted Warhawk impaled in the dirt close by and raced over, discarding the rifle to tug the weapon free.

"LANCE! GET DOWN!" Shiro hollered as the purple cloud began to settle.

Lance was almost at the ramp when it fell over him. He stumbled into view moments after being enveloped, shrieking and collapsing facedown on the ramp as veins of purple bulged through his skin.

"Lance!" Shiro grabbed the younger boy's jacket by the collar and dragged him up into the transport's compartment. "Keith! Seal the door!"

The ramp swung up and sent Warhawk clattering to the floor of the compartment, sealing the mutagenic dust out as Keith engaged the vehicle's hazard countermeasures. But it was too little, too late, for one of the children lay writhing on the floor next to Carlos, his screams and form becoming increasingly less human. This was how Rattlesnake Jake preferred his victims before he ended them: a mass of inhuman shrieking that begged for death.

When Carlos blinked he was staring at the charred corpse of a young woman laying on her side, feline ears poking out of her blackened cranium and a face that had been half burnt away staring back at him, one socket a hollow void that pierced him now as it had all those years ago.

 _You let this happen._

 _You're a monster!_

 _We all knew it would happen eventually._

Then he blinked again and there was Lance, tears streaming down the still human half of his face as his new form bulged, straining against his attire as new extensions and bone formations manifested.

"Shiro, do something!" Pidge screamed, held against Hunk's chest with his face buried into the older boy's shirt. "Help him!"

"I…I don't know how!" Shiro stared helplessly as his friend inched further and further away from any hope of recovery. "Oh god help me…I don't know what to do!"

 **(Owari no Seraph OST – 108)**

Carlos heaved his body to one side, turning onto his front where he could plant his hands and see his flesh beginning to flake away, turning into a grey powder as it broke down one bit at a time.

 _Monster? Murderer?_ He pushed himself up, feeling heat build in his hands to the point that brushing his palm against an arm rest left it warped and blackened. _Maybe that is what I am. Enough people have died to authenticate that title._

He slammed into Shiro and shoved him aside.

"What are you-" Shiro froze as he saw cracks form in Carlos' forearms, both of whichnow looked like they had been burnt over an open flame until not an inch of unblemished, unscorched skin remained. From the black, brittle surface emerged little embers, the beginnings of a flame that was too starved to fully emerge.

 _But this kid came back for me! He's like this because of me!_ Carlos let gravity pull him down to his knees and latched onto Lance's contorted face with both hands. _So fuck you, Sebben! You win!_

Flames erupted from Carlos' hands and spread across Lance, consuming him from head to toe and drowning out the horrified shrieks behind him. Strong hands tried to pull him away, to beat him enough that he'd stop, but he barely felt them now. All that mattered was the burning mass in front of him.

Xxx

 **Grimmfall, City Hall**

Phil Ken Sebben opened his good eye and abruptly stood up, his chair scraping back on the floor.

"Mr Mayor?!" Callie Briggs flinched back from where she sat across his desk from him. "What's wrong?"

Sebben slowly stepped towards the nearest window overlooking Grimmfall. "Something has happened, Ms Briggs." He said. "Something both wonderful…and terrible."

Concern clear on her face, Callie approached slowly and reached out for Sebben's arm. "Is it Carlos?"

Sebben nodded slowly. "Do you know the legends of the Phoenix, Ms Briggs? It's said to be a mystical bird that would burst into flames upon death…only to be reborn from among its own ashes."

He turned away from the window and met her gaze, bearing an expression that she was not accustomed to seeing from him.

Distress.

"Somewhere, our beyond the boundaries of this city…a Phoenix just took its first breath."

Xxx

By the time the flames had died down Carlos lacked the energy to remain less resist as he was flung down onto his back. The children beheld the husk that had once been their friend.

"He…he killed him…" Pidge whispered.

"That Dust was already killing him." Shiro said grimly. "You don't want to know what it would have done to him if it kept going like that."

"That doesn't make it right!" Pidge shouted, grabbing him by the jacket. "Lance was our friend and he just burned him alive right in front of us! What if we'd been able to get him to a hospital? What if-"

"Uh, hello?"

"Laaaaaaaance!" Hunk bawled, falling to his knees.

"Guys?"

"Shut up, Lance!" Pidge screamed. "Just shut up for once in…" His voice died away as shock and realization set in. "…Lance?"

"Could someone help me out of here?!" From the black cocoon of burnt flesh, a hand broke through. "And…get me some pants?"

Immediately the three flung themselves forward, ripping open the carcass to reveal a hollow space within…containing a naked but otherwise unharmed Lance. Shiro quickly donated his jacket so that Lance could cover himself while the others helped him to his feet.

"You're okay!" Hunk cried out, pulling his friend into a tight embrace,

"Uh…Hunk? I'm kind of naked." Lance reminded him.

"I don't care! You're naked and you're okay!" Hunk laughed and cried all at once.

"But-But how is that possible?!" Pidge gaped after getting over Lance's state of attire. "He set you on fire!"

"Funny thing…that actually didn't hurt." Lance admitted, holding Shiro's jacket up around his midsection to restore a semblance of his modesty. "I didn't realize it at first because…well…purple dust, but that fire…it felt like it was burning the dust out of me without hurting me. I don't know what else to say about it."

"Thank you, might be a start." Carlos groaned, still laying on his back with his arms once again in pristine condition. "Or 'sorry for the fresh wave of bruises'."

Shiro helped him up into one of the seats. "We're so sorry, we didn't know." He said quickly. "We thought…we thought that-"

"That I was cooking your friend like Roberto cooks toast: charred black." Carlos ventured a guess. "Don't blame you for thinking that. Came as a surprise to me the first time I ever did it."

"How do flames induce cellular regeneration?" Pidge looked over Lance. "Or reverse genetic damage caused by Purple Dust?"

"Semblance." Carlos deadpanned with a shrug. "Don't ask me the science behind it, kid. I saved your friend, again, and as far as I care his debt extends to the lot of you for the beating you gave me while I was trying to help him putting you, once again after factoring in you coming back to rescue me against specific orders: in my debt. We clear on that?"

"Crystal." Shiro answered, shooting Pidge a look when he opened his mouth. "Keith, head for the rendezvous point. If we haven't been away too long then Kurt and Roberto might swing by there again."

"Got it." Keith replied from the front. "But we'll want to ditch this way before then, so grab everything that's not nailed down or tagged."

"Pidge, Hunk, find Lance something to wear." Shiro ordered. "Then grab anything useful. Emergency rations, medical supplies, weapons. We aren't getting caught empty handed like last time." He sat across from Carlos. "In the meantime…I promised to tell you everything, and now seems like a good time."

Carlos reached down and, with some struggle, picked Warhawk up to set across his lap. "Wise choice."

Shiro took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before deciding where to begin. "What do you know about the Kerberos Expedition?"

Xxx

 **Far from Nowhere**

He'd felt it.

The spark of the flame that had brought him to this pustule of a rock.

"So…" A set of icey blue eyes opened in the dim lighting. "It looks to me like someone…got it wrong."

Thin arms pushed a slim figure off of a stone chair. Bare feet padded across the cold rock as a stray breeze unsettled the tattered lower garments of this lonesome figure. He soon emerged into pale sunlight, exposing an equally pale body marred by runes embedded into the flesh of his arms, torso and head.

"None left alive, they said," he drawled, staring down at the waves that crashed against the jutting rock spikes far below the cliff-face bearing the entrance of his humble abode. "No others would be born, they said."

Spitting on the rock by his feet, the man took in the horizon as the sun began to peek up into view. His eyes didn't so much as flutter or water as they took in this sight, the sight he'd once found to be so beautiful that it drove him to tears.

"Well," He sighed and extended one leg out over the great plummet. "It's like the apes keep saying: if you want something done right."

He tipped forward and fearlessly raced towards the rocks below.

"You need to do it yourself." He murmured before landing on his head.

Xxx

End of Chapter


	6. Chapter Five: Reunion

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

"The best and worst thing about reunions is that they can either be very good, or very bad." TOM said. "The key to surviving the latter is to always remember a few rules: be graceful even in the face of adversity, never let someone get a rise out of you and most importantly of all, always be the better man…or woman. Or robot. It's pretty universal."

Xxx

( _A village surrounded by a crumbling wall is in flames, with bodies of Faunus and Mobians strewn about. A young man, Carlos Hunter, stands before the blaze, eyes wide in horrified shock. The flames are reflected in his irises as a figure emerges from the embers and slowly turns towards him. Cut to black.)_

 **Human by Rag'n Bone Man starts playing**

( _A wide shot shows the cityscape of Grimmfall. Quickly zooms in towards a bar on the outskirts where Carlos sits up as if suddenly awakening from a dream. He seems momentarily shaken before his table, laying next to where his head had been laid, turns on. His attention is drawn to it immediately._ )

 _ **I'm only human…**_

 _ **I'm only-**_

 _ **I'm only-**_

( _Carlos exhales and picks up the tablet, pocketing it and slapping payment on the counter as he hurries out of the bar._ )

 **GRIMMFALL: RAGNAROK**

 _ **I'm only human…**_

 _ **Human…**_

 _(Carlos stops out in front and the camera focuses in on his face before it becomes replaced by Kurt Malcolm's in a desert setting. Then Roberto Lupine's in a deep jungle. And then to Phil Ken Sebben before it pans out to show him staring at a picture of Team Ragnarok's graduation ceremony.)_

 _ **Maybe I'm foolish**_

 _ **Maybe I'm blind**_

 _ **Thinkin' I can see through this**_

 _ **To see what's behind**_

 _(Cuts to Carlos standing in a desert environment in a ravine, with gun wielding figures aiming down at him. Big Bob is perched with an arrow drawn back in his bow while his daughters Olga and Helga stand to either side of him, arms crossed and smirking down at Carlos. Zeke and Josephine are on the opposite side with gun-arm and pistols respectively levelled. Rattlesnake Jake stands in front of Carlos and Rouge the Bat reclines on a rock nearby, casting a flirtatious wink.)_

 _ **Got no way to prove it**_

 _ **So maybe I'm blind**_

 _(Carlos reaches for his sword, Warhawk, and begins to draw it from over his shoulder. Scene cuts to him slicing through an Ursa Grimm before turning into a cloud of ashes that flies swiftly through a horde of Grimm. He reforms and swings is sword upwards towards a towering armoured figure only for it to be deflected, leading to a quick exchange of blows as Carlos dips, weaves and jumps to avoid savage and powerful swings from his foe.)_

 _ **But I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _(Carlos succeeds in a downwards strike that knocks the armoured giant's helmet off, but what Carlos sees beneath leaves him shocked and stunned as his enemy raises their sword overhead and brings it down towards him.)_

 _ **Take a look in a mirror**_

 _ **And what do you see**_

 _ **Do you see it clearer**_

 _ **Or are you deceived**_

 _(As the shadow of the falling sword grows closer to Carlos' horrified expression the scene cuts to him standing, shirtless, in a bathroom and staring sullenly at his own reflection, partly obscured by condensation on the mirror. Carlos' jaw clenches and he drives one fist through the mirror in frustration and sees a doppelgänger of himself on the other side, staring back mockingly with eyes that look like they are radiating fire while it and Carlos grab one another by the throat.)_

 _ **Cause I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _(Carlos' doppelgänger leans forward through the shattered mirror, and the flames in its eyes are reflected in his own eyes. Cuts back to Carlos in the midst of combat as he turns into a cloud of ashes to narrowly avoid the downwards stroke and reforms above his foe, whose face remains shadowed, and ignites Warhawk's blade as he stabs downwards. Cuts to Kurt staring at a wall with a series of newspaper articles, pictures and notes with pins connected by lengths of red twine, indicating a diverse series of events and individuals are somehow related. At the center of it are the pictures of Team Ragnarok arranged around a symbol of a symbol with three spikes pointed downwards, two pronged horns pointed upwards and a gap in the center resembling an eye.)_

 _ **Oh, some people got the real problems**_

 _ **Some people out of luck**_

 _ **Some people think I can solve them**_

 _ **Lord heavens above**_

 _(Roberto rushes forward as Carlos is flung into the dirt close by, snarling as his upper body muscles visibly bulge and he slams into the armoured giant, encircling its waist with his arms as he gets around behind it and lifts it off its feet, into a suplex. Kurt appears next with five figures in distinctly coloured armour, offering Carlos a hand as the rest race past and engage the Grimm closing in around them. Carlos is stunned by Kurt's appearance but reaches out to take the hand.)_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _(Scene transitions to a younger Carlos surrounded by fire and reaching up as a younger Kurt races away. Carlos looks devastated but then angered by this as the flames extinguish and flakes of ash rain around him as he drives a fist into the ground. Cuts back to Phil Ken Sebben's office where he raises a hand towards his eye patch while Callie Briggs stands at his side, statuesque. The camera pans out from his office and over Grimmfall to an airship with Carlos seated in the back and staring out at the city through a window.)_

Xxx

 **Chapter Five: Reunion**

 **Nowhere, Deadman's Vale**

The rendezvous point, an enclosure of rock hidden away amidst the twisting passages of the Vale, was quiet save for the crackling of a small fire, a privilege afforded by the towering cliffs preventing anyone from spotting it a distance.

"So…actual space aliens?"

"For the fifteenth time: yes!" Shiro groaned.

"And this leader, Zarky-"

"Zarkon." Shiro cut him off. "The Emperor of the Galra. He was ruling entire galaxies for thousands of year…"

"Until he wandered by our world." Pidge finished. "How'd that happen?"

"He heard of some great power to be found here from spies he had listening in on some enemy called 'the Gems'." Shiro explained. "Another big empire that tried to invade Earth thousands of years ago only to be beaten back. They called it 'the elementals', and Zarkon wanted to acquire them for himself, but when he tried he was stopped and then…just vanished."

"Like that?" Hunk asked, munching on some ration bars. "Kinda anticlimactic."

"They took us because we'd wandered outside of some perimeter that Zarkon's son had set up, forbidding any Galra from coming close to Earth." Shiro continued. "There was some woman who seemed to be in charge, demanding information about him. She thinks that we're holding him prisoner…under the orders of someone named Sammael."

Suddenly two shapes landed near the fire, making the five teens scramble to their feet.

"Funny you should mention that name." One of them, a red haired man wearing sun glasses, stood up and dusted off his palms. "You kids have any trouble getting back here?"

Before anyone could answer, the second man: a tall and broad shouldered wolf Faunus sniffed the air and looked alarmed. "Kurt-"

Kurt Malcolm ducked down low as Warhawk spun through the air, cutting through the space once occupied by his neck.

"Seriously?!" Kurt stood up. "Are you trying to cut my head off?!"

"If you weren't able to dodge that." Carlos emerged from an outcropping overhead. "Then you'd either be one of Rattlesnake Jake's illusions, or you'd deserve it for getting sloppy."

He jumped down and landed between the two men and the group. Warhawk came back around and returned to his hand, the hilt glowing with gravity dust which was synced to a bracelet that Carlos wore, calling the weapon back to him.

"So." Carlos looked between his old team mates. "…was whatever you found in that base worth it? Say yes, because if I'm an international fugitive by the time Melissa's birthday comes around I'll make sure you both go down with me."

Kurt exhaled. "Hi, nice to see you too Carlos- assuming you are Carlos."

"Your glasses are tacky and only no-talent jerks wear them at night."

Kurt's arm shot up, revealing a staff which he swung right towards Carlos' face only for it to be parried at the last second. For a moment they maintained that pose before Kurt sighed and pulled back. "You're real. And I told you: my eyes are super sensitive to light!"

"Doesn't change the fact that they're still tacky." Carlos chuckled.

"And you still look like a clone of Sylvester Stallone."

"And you seriously think that's an insult?" Carlos sheathed Warhawk.

"Just saying: you're ripping off his look! You're a hunter, he's a celebrity." Kurt said as they stepped closer. "Guess who can get away with it?"

They stopped…and then Carlos rolled his eyes and held his arms out. He and Kurt pulled each other into a hug, patting each other on the back before pulling apart.

"Are they hugging?" Hunk whispered.

"Either that or they're grabbing each other's wallets." Keith shrugged.

"Roberto, get over here you hairy oaf." Carlos beckoned.

"Just so you know: my wallet's empty, I used up all the cash-"

"Get over here or you're getting a hair removal cream pie."

Roberto picked Carlos up in a bear hug. "Aw there's the nostalgia." He chuckled and set Carlos down. "How are the kids doing?"

"Super." Carlos smiled. "Already stealing all my dust ammo if I leave it at home. The property damage bills are sky rocketing and- oh yeah, apparently Kurt's kids are going to be staying over in a couple weeks. That'll be fun. Speaking of…" He turned to Kurt. "Kurt, if Sarah finally kicks you out, you're welcome to stay in our dog house."

"What happened to Mr Pickles?"

"…he never stood a chance." Carlos sighed. "…he ran away, I mean."

"Yeah well I'd take a trash can in an alley over your dog house."

"Funny, I was thinking of upgrading you to our septic tank." Carlos sat around the fire. "But enough of that…I think you two have a lot of explaining to do: like why you have General Specific and a team of the most dangerous mercenaries in the world after you."

Kurt and Roberto joined them as the teens scooted over to make room for them.

"Okay, where to begin…" Kurt cleared his throat.

"Where any crappy exposition begins: the start."

"Oh right, that'd be the Monday that I convinced you and Roberto to drop cherry bombs down the toilet in the teachers'-"

"MILITARY BASE, KURT!"

"Fine, geez!" Kurt held his hands up. "Okay…it honestly started when I was on a completely different assignment, tracking an anomalous energy reading for Sebben. He said it was related to Galra tech, so naturally he was concerned enough to look into it. I show up and find General Specific and his goons all over the place digging up something huge and loading it up in a transport with so much Gravity Dust added on I swear they must have emptied out an entire mountain of the stuff. I snuck aboard and followed them back to their base in the Darklands where I found these kids locked up."

"Specific was so nuts about keeping his work secret that he went ahead and set up his base in the fire swamps." Roberto added. "You know how crazy that is? Entering the Darklands at all is nuts, but going deeper than the Forsaken Valley practically puts you in you-know-who's back yard."

"Sammael." Carlos guessed. "Okay, brief detour. Kids, what were you all doing there?"

"Well I was monitoring some signal coming from outer space." Pidge spoke up first. "That's when Shiro's ship, the one he escaped the Galra in, crashed near the edge of the Darklands. Hunk, Lance and I loaded up to go check it out and found Keith there…and an army."

"They arrested us on the spot." Shiro explained. "Wouldn't even listen to me when I tried to tell them about the Galra. They just shipped us off to that base and the only time they took me out of our cell was to examine my arm." He held up his prosthetic arm, one of alien origin. "It was like that for almost a month before Kurt and Roberto found us."

"Coming back to me." Kurt said. "I busted them out, hacked into Specific's files, deleted his personal files so he wouldn't have anything to go on…and may have uploaded a virus to compromise his network by showing him and his idiots goons nothing but porn…all of this after I hijacked their satellite system to call in Roberto for help."

"I dropped everything and flew over." Roberto picked up. "By the time I got there the place was in flames. No, seriously."

"What did you do?" Carlos raised one brow at Kurt.

"Not my fault he chose the fire swamps! The containment field was breached and a Freakosaurus-Rex-"

"A what?" Lance blinked.

"Think a Grimm-Lava hybrid shaped like a T-Rex. Anyways, it was making a move on the place." Kurt said. "We took off, but Specific managed to call in the Air Force and chased us all over. But on our way out we managed to snag something from his labs that helped us get out-"

"A matter translocation device." Carlos said. "Sebben gave me the briefing. What was Specific working on exactly?"

"Acquiring and reverse engineering alien technology." Shiro said.

"Much like the Gundam Project that made the Dragon of Denver." Roberto clarified. "The frame was built from a rare form of metal from space. It was immune to the dark substance that makes the Grimm."

"I'm guessing that Specific's projects were all government sponsored." Carlos said. "More of their efforts to make up for not having every Huntsman in America in their back pocket."

"Right on the money." Kurt nodded. "He had all sorts of stuff there that I couldn't even begin to describe. The only reason I knew I was grabbing a teleporter was because that was one of the few things his Angry Scientist could even make prototype for."

"Don't you mean 'mad scientist'?" Carlos asked.

"No!" Lance squeaked. "I mean…he's literally an Angry Scientist. Don't even breathe the word 'mad' around him, trust me." He shivered. "Just don't."

"Right…so what have you all been flying around the world over?" Carlos asked. "Sebben managed to pinpoint you in a few places by tracing the unique radiation signature on that teleporter."

"Well…remember how I said they were loading up something super big?" Kurt pulled out his tablet and went to the photo files. "Take a look."

What Carlos was was the picture of…a giant, quadrupedal robot. Based on the structures and vehicles around it at the time of the photo being taken it had to be several stories tall. It resembled a lion in shape and had aquatic blue armour.

"What am I looking at?"

"A lion. A piece of machinery ten thousand years old." Kurt answered.

"And hidden here because after Zarkon vanished and the Galra avoided this planet, the creators knew this would be the one place in the universe that they could be hidden safely." Shiro added. "There's five of them, and they're meant to form something called 'Voltron'. The Galra spoke about it a lot in passing, calling it…the greatest weapon in the universe."

"Said every super villain or evil empire that ever wanted something." Carlos huffed. "But alright, so you've been flying around to collect these lions. And I assume the last one is…"

"Right within a few miles of where we are right now." Kurt confirmed. "Specific is after it as much as he's after us. Imagine what something like that could do in the hands of a nutjob like him."

"Honestly: I'd bet five technos that he'd blow himself up." Carlos replied with a shrug.

"Before or after blowing up the Earth with him?"

"Fair point." Carlos stood up. "Alright then, now the pieces fall together. Now to get to the meat of the matter: what happens after you find this lion?"

"We…aren't one hundred percent clear on that." Pidge confessed. "Every time we found one it would play a fragment of a message. We don't know who its from, only that it's repeating a set of coordinates that aren't anywhere on Earth or in this solar system. We think that they might lead to whoever made the lions."

"The lions also apparently 'bonded' with us." Hunk made air quotes. "So we're supposed to go with them. The five of us I mean. Don't get me wrong, if you guys want to come I'd be all for it since you're all really cool and strong."

"I think my wife would kill me if I left the atmosphere." Carlos said dryly. "In fact, I have that scenario labelled on one of three suicide conditions I have at home."

"Suicide conditions? For getting your wife angry?" Keith asked in disbelief.

"Number One: I take off my wedding ring, she kills me. Number Two: I kill the husband of her best friend-" Carlos pointed a thumb at Kurt. "She kills me. Number Three: I leave the planet for any reason short of the end of the world, she kills me."

"Unofficial Number Four," Kurt mumbled, "You breathe a word of her killing you, she kills you."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!"

"My point being." Carlos shook his head. "Sorry kids, this outer space stuff sees to be up your alley. I'm staying here where we can hopefully un-screw this mess that we're in with the whole fugitives bit. But if you need this lion so badly…" He looked at Kurt and Roberto. "You found it, right?"

"Sure did!" Roberto beamed. "Problem is…it's kind of somewhere that you don't want to be."

"Where?" Carlos rubbed his brow.

"We have to be extra careful where we're going-"

"Where?"

"Because if we aren't careful we could end up dying a horrible, agonizing death which-"

"Where?!"

"…the Black Maw."

…

"The Black Maw…" Carlos breathed. "The Black Maw…as in…practically a stone's throw across the Darklands border nearby…and right in the back yard of you-know-who?"

"The same." Kurt and Roberto chimed in unison.

…

Carlos exhaled. "Well!" He clapped his hands together. "Another day on Team Ragnarok it is!"

"So you're not gonna- wow, I actually thought he'd walk." Roberto whispered to Kurt.

"I thought he'd go nuts." Kurt replied.

"And I thought I'd be back home with my wife and kids in a day or two," Carlos added, leaning in to whisper. "But I guess the world is full of disappointments."

"Well sorry Carlos. I mean you don't really need to come along with us-"

"I'm an international fugitive the moment I engaged Specifics' mercenaries and broke the kids out." Carlos cut him off. "Look, I get it: you're being considerate of my feelings because the last time we went into the Darklands we ran into Old Sammy and he made a Grimm based off my negative feelings towards you that nearly killed all of us."

The teens looked around awkwardly and inched away from the conversation.

"But guess what, Kurt: I'm here and I'm apparently staying until we can clear our names." Carlos pulled Kurt to his feet. "So let's go get your giant robot cat and fling it and the kids into space so we can cross that bridge and then worry about our own problems. Sound good?"

"And what happens when you encounter…that…guy again?" Kurt asked.

"You mean Dark-Me? Oh…I'll handle him." Carlos promised. "Last time we went there I was still a little fresh off of Northguard, now…" He held up his hand and generated a few sparks of flame. "I'm feeling just a little back on my game."

Roberto gaped and leaned in. "No way. Sparks? Not just ashes? What happened?"

"…the thing that Sebben said would happen." Carlos dismissed the sparks. "Somebody badly needed my help and I couldn't put it off anymore. Purple dust is a bad way to go, I sure wasn't going to let a kid suffer through that. So if the worst happens you just feel free to tell Sebben that he won, okay?"

Kurt had turned pale the moment that Carlos demonstrated his semblance. The last time that he'd seen it in action in its true form had been a decade ago at Northguard, and the aftermath had been a nightmare both to witness and to deal with. As much as he'd hated himself for it: he'd been relieved to hear that Carlos couldn't make so much as a spark after that calamity of a mission.

 _Sebben, you bastard…you won the bet and now a lot of people are probably going to get hurt over it._

Xxx

 **Somewhere far from Nowhere**

It hadn't taken long for him to reach shore. In the old days he would swim across entire oceans with his brothers, braving frigid and boiling tide alike with childish innocence and euphoria. Now he didn't feel the chill of the sea or the bite of the air against his form as he marched up onto a sandy shore.

"Ah…" He stretched and arched his back, eliciting several popping sounds. "Nothing like a swim to start off the day, huh?"

The dozens of beach goers stared at the stranger in puzzlement, some of them wary at the sight of his scarred, tattooed torso.

"No one?" The stranger grinned. "Oh, it's so good to see that mortals never change."

He walked up to the nearest person: a trio of mobians who backed away nervously before he lifted one of them, a young fox mobian, into the air.

"I need some directions." The stranger said. "Care to help a man out?"

"W-where to?" The fox mobian asked nervously.

"I'm looking for a place called…the Black Maw." The man bared his teeth in a grin and leaned in close. "Would you happen to know the way?"

"Hey!"

Several men and women climbed to their feet and approached, revealing weapons hidden among their beach gear.

"Let the kid go." One of them demanded, levelling a spear which crackled with electricity at the blade. "I won't ask twice."

The stranger looked around as the other Huntsmen unfolded their own weapons, ranging from guns to swords, maces, bows and an assortment of other armaments. He laughed in amusement and dropped the mobian, who scrambled away with his friends.

"Well look at this!" The stranger held his arms out to his sides. "The apes are still playing around with that…what was it again?" He snapped his fingers. "Ah, yes…aura and dust. Nature's fury? Just adorable, really."

"Whoever you are, if you've come to make trouble in Orchid Bay, you're about to get your wish granted." One of the women growled and smashed a set of gauntlets together, emitting a wisp of flame.

"Trouble? Oh…no no no…" The man shook his head. "I'm just here to set things back on track. That isn't so bad, right? Restoring balance to things, undoing a mistake so the world can move on?"

"Alright pal, time for you to go." One of the other huntsmen demanded. "Get walking or you can spend a night nursing bruises in a cell."

"Oh?" The stranger tilted his head, looking puzzled. "You think you can hurt me? Why…I'd welcome it if you tried."

"Final chance: go. Now."

The stranger grinned again. "…you're going to have to kill me to make that happen."

He swung out wildly and punched the nearest hunter across the jaw as they moved to restrain him. Another moved in and struck the stranger across the back, making him stumble before three more joined in, beating him down with non-fatal strikes intended to wound. After several seconds of this drove him to his knees they relented.

"Someone call the police. Get this guy up and off the beach."

"No, no no…" The stranger groaned as one of the men grabbed him by the arm.

"Yes, yes, yes." They mocked him. "You had your chance, buddy."

"Alright…"

The hunter was stopped and felt his arm get jerked back as the stranger, who was much smaller and thinner than him, stopped in place and dug his feet into the wet sand. "What the-"

"My turn!" The stranger tore his arm free and delivered another hit…which sent the huntsman flying high into the air until he landed on a nearby shack, making it crumble to pieces beneath him.

The rest of the huntsmen backed away in shock as the stranger's tattoos began to emit a pale blue glow. This spreads quickly to his eyes and fists as he cackled ecstatically.

"Before you all die, I just want you to know…" He cracked his knuckles. "I won't feel… _any_ of this!"

Xxx

End of chapter


	7. Chapter Six: Enthusiastic Walk

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

"There's an old saying: familiarity breeds contempt." TOM quoted. "The idea is that the more you come to know someone, the more respect for them that you lose. But for most people, that's because they're often exposed to just one side of that person, the side that demonstrates everything they dislike in that person. It isn't always easy to look past that, but if you manage it you might find that the person beneath is someone you could call friend."

Xxx

( _A village surrounded by a crumbling wall is in flames, with bodies of Faunus and Mobians strewn about. A young man, Carlos Hunter, stands before the blaze, eyes wide in horrified shock. The flames are reflected in his irises as a figure emerges from the embers and slowly turns towards him. Cut to black.)_

 **Human by Rag'n Bone Man starts playing**

( _A wide shot shows the cityscape of Grimmfall. Quickly zooms in towards a bar on the outskirts where Carlos sits up as if suddenly awakening from a dream. He seems momentarily shaken before his table, laying next to where his head had been laid, turns on. His attention is drawn to it immediately._ )

 _ **I'm only human…**_

 _ **I'm only-**_

 _ **I'm only-**_

( _Carlos exhales and picks up the tablet, pocketing it and slapping payment on the counter as he hurries out of the bar._ )

 **GRIMMFALL: RAGNAROK**

 _ **I'm only human…**_

 _ **Human…**_

 _(Carlos stops out in front and the camera focuses in on his face before it becomes replaced by Kurt Malcolm's in a desert setting. Then Roberto Lupine's in a deep jungle. And then to Phil Ken Sebben before it pans out to show him staring at a picture of Team Ragnarok's graduation ceremony.)_

 _ **Maybe I'm foolish**_

 _ **Maybe I'm blind**_

 _ **Thinkin' I can see through this**_

 _ **To see what's behind**_

 _(Cuts to Carlos standing in a desert environment in a ravine, with gun wielding figures aiming down at him. Big Bob is perched with an arrow drawn back in his bow while his daughters Olga and Helga stand to either side of him, arms crossed and smirking down at Carlos. Zeke and Josephine are on the opposite side with gun-arm and pistols respectively levelled. Rattlesnake Jake stands in front of Carlos and Rouge the Bat reclines on a rock nearby, casting a flirtatious wink.)_

 _ **Got no way to prove it**_

 _ **So maybe I'm blind**_

 _(Carlos reaches for his sword, Warhawk, and begins to draw it from over his shoulder. Scene cuts to him slicing through an Ursa Grimm before turning into a cloud of ashes that flies swiftly through a horde of Grimm. He reforms and swings is sword upwards towards a towering armoured figure only for it to be deflected, leading to a quick exchange of blows as Carlos dips, weaves and jumps to avoid savage and powerful swings from his foe.)_

 _ **But I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _(Carlos succeeds in a downwards strike that knocks the armoured giant's helmet off, but what Carlos sees beneath leaves him shocked and stunned as his enemy raises their sword overhead and brings it down towards him.)_

 _ **Take a look in a mirror**_

 _ **And what do you see**_

 _ **Do you see it clearer**_

 _ **Or are you deceived**_

 _(As the shadow of the falling sword grows closer to Carlos' horrified expression the scene cuts to him standing, shirtless, in a bathroom and staring sullenly at his own reflection, partly obscured by condensation on the mirror. Carlos' jaw clenches and he drives one fist through the mirror in frustration and sees a doppelgänger of himself on the other side, staring back mockingly with eyes that look like they are radiating fire while it and Carlos grab one another by the throat.)_

 _ **Cause I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put your blame on me**_

 _(Carlos' doppelgänger leans forward through the shattered mirror, and the flames in its eyes are reflected in his own eyes. Cuts back to Carlos in the midst of combat as he turns into a cloud of ashes to narrowly avoid the downwards stroke and reforms above his foe, whose face remains shadowed, and ignites Warhawk's blade as he stabs downwards. Cuts to Kurt staring at a wall with a series of newspaper articles, pictures and notes with pins connected by lengths of red twine, indicating a diverse series of events and individuals are somehow related. At the center of it are the pictures of Team Ragnarok arranged around a symbol of a symbol with three spikes pointed downwards, two pronged horns pointed upwards and a gap in the center resembling an eye.)_

 _ **Oh, some people got the real problems**_

 _ **Some people out of luck**_

 _ **Some people think I can solve them**_

 _ **Lord heavens above**_

 _(Roberto rushes forward as Carlos is flung into the dirt close by, snarling as his upper body muscles visibly bulge and he slams into the armoured giant, encircling its waist with his arms as he gets around behind it and lifts it off its feet, into a suplex. Kurt appears next with five figures in distinctly coloured armour, offering Carlos a hand as the rest race past and engage the Grimm closing in around them. Carlos is stunned by Kurt's appearance but reaches out to take the hand.)_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **I'm only human after all**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _ **Don't put the blame on me**_

 _(Scene transitions to a younger Carlos surrounded by fire and reaching up as a younger Kurt races away. Carlos looks devastated but then angered by this as the flames extinguish and flakes of ash rain around him as he drives a fist into the ground. Cuts back to Phil Ken Sebben's office where he raises a hand towards his eye patch while Callie Briggs stands at his side, statuesque. The camera pans out from his office and over Grimmfall to an airship with Carlos seated in the back and staring out at the city through a window.)_

Xxx

 **Chapter Six: Enthusiastic Walk**

 **Nowhere-Darklands Border, SMP Mobile Aerial Command Centre, Hangar Deck**

"And you're sure that's where they've gone, hun?" Rouge the Bat asked, draped over the wing of an inert gunship and watching Big Bob load his equipment below.

"Public might be the archetypal yes-man and boot-licker," Bob unfolded a compound bow to its full length and tested the string, then the dust chambers in the grip, "but his Semblance never lies AE-5 was located here long enough to leave a radiation signature before something moved it from its hiding spot. Whoever did it, however they did it, moved it in a straight line that goes right across the border."

The search for the fugitives had gone about as well as expected. The remaining members of Team Ragnarok, the five escapees from Specific's base and any chance of reclaiming AE-1 through 4 were gone like dust on the wind. But Private Public had managed, in a stroke of luck, to find the cavern that had once house the fifth of the robotic lions while tracking Malcolm's aura, narrowing the area down as their target moved towards the Darklands.

From there, they were given a trajectory to follow that a blind man couldn't miss. The unique radiation signature of the fifth Lion was inhibited by the nature of the Darklands, but Specific's liaison and right hand man had been able to draw a straight line across the map and give them a trajectory leading right to a part of the Darklands known as the Black Maw. Public was all for holding back until reinforcements with special equipment with dealing with the unique level of danger in the Darklands could be summoned, but Big Bob was not one to wait as his quarry went to ground.

Olga and Helga were shipped home, not as punishment for failure as one might expect from someone like Big Bob, but because before being a soldier he was still a father and wouldn't drag his children into a region where 'extreme danger' was an understatement. Rattlesnake Jake was still recovering from the thrashing that Carlos had given him. This left Bob, Rouge and the ex-spouse mercenaries Zeke and Josephine Clench to take up the chase if their military support wouldn't.

"Who d'yah think moved it anyhow?" Ezekiel asked, performing maintenance on one of his prosthetic hands in the shelter of the troop compartment.

"Why darlin' Zeke, don't strain that handsome brain of yours figuring out the obvious." The approach of Josephine immediately made Zeke shoot to a standing position and glare at her as she strolled up the ramp.

"Hundred meters, woman!" He snarled. "What part'a that don't you get?!"

"My understandin' of your overreaction to our little fallin' out is crystalline, darlin'." Josephine brushed one gloved hand along Zeke's beard as she passed him with a wink. "However, as the General made perfectly clear: y'all can't press charges over events that have never occurred nor shall ever be acknowledged as anythin' more than the mad ramblins of a bitter ex husband." She pouted towards the end of her statement. "Why I'd feel absolutely mortified if you were to go so far in craftin' a story that paints me as such a villain, darlin'."

Zeke snarled and swatted her hand away. "Woman, don't make me punt you right off'a this here flyin' tub'a-"

The loud crash of Big Bob's final crate hitting the floor drowned out his last word.

"Enough!" Big Bob barked. "Are you two prepared to pretend to behave like professionals for a few short hours, or do I need to leave you behind and split the reward fifty-fifty with the bat up there?"

Rouge fluttered down and draped her arms around Bob's shoulders. "Oh, I like the sound of that proposal already." She giggled even as Bob pushed her away.

"I for one am completely prepared to put aside any bad blood with my darlin' ex-husband." Josephine beamed, her parasol closed up and propped across her shoulder.

Zeke grunted and sank back into his seat. "Better be worth it." He muttered bitterly, arms crossed and a heavy scowl visible through his thick beard.

"Good." Big Bob stepped up to the cockpit and seized the controls, bringing the gunship's thrusters online.

" _Flight Control to Manticore-Three, you are not authorized for ignition testing! Cut engines immediately- hey!_ " A flight control officer shouted as the gunship lifted off out of the hangar without delay. " _All units, be advised that Manticore-3 is unresponsive and mobile without authorization! Scramble pursuit craft!_ "

"Belay that if you don't want to find yourself buried up to your neck in an Ursa nest." Big Bob growled into the radio. "I don't need authorization to continue doing my job. You tell Public that he'd better get his butt moving and follow after us, or the only thing his precious mission report will have to say is how much of a dead weight he was while we did all the hard work."

Settled into the copilot's seat, Rouge added. "You heard the man, boys and girls. Try stoppin' this craft at your own risk." She offered. "Otherwise, we'll see you all once we've bagged us some rogue Huntsmen."

Xxx

 **The Darklands**

"An actual T-Rex made of actual lava?!" Pidge shouted, bearing signs of burns across his clothes yet fortunate enough to escape any true harm alongside the others. "Lava. That moves!"

"We get it, Pidge!" Lance groaned, trudging ahead in a set of spare fatigues taken from the long abandoned transport.

"You really think that's the worst of it?" Carlos snorted, on point and ash-stepping between jutting black outcroppings that dotted the path ahead, granting him a view of the group's surroundings. "Kiddo, remind me again what you were a cadet for?"

"Galaxy Garrison." Shiro answered, positioned at the rear of the line and wearing the appropriated military hardware like he was born for it. "It's a multinational project for pushing further into space for resources, scientific discovery and possible long term extra-planetary colonization."

"An endeavour like that would need power sources not reliant on Dust." Kurt noted, walking side by side with Roberto ahead of the teens but behind Carlos. "Thruster systems, radiation protection…who would pay for that? Wait, dumb question: any government that would very much like to exploit a whole new planet."

"You're…not wrong." Shiro admitted. "But the Garrison has potential to do accomplish a lot for Earth. We know the Grimm can't travel through space."

"Pretty sure the Fallen can pull it off, had they the inclination." Carlos suggested, reappearing a few feet in front of the group. "Also, Black Maw is right over the next ridge…and I think we may need some more firepower if this goes south."

Gathered atop the ridge line, Hunk whimpered as he stared at the vast collection of Grimm milling about below…surrounding a vast lake of pure black water. "Oh man…why couldn't we have gone to the Rainbow Maw?"

Roberto reaches into his vest pocket and pulled out his tablet. "Hm…looks like a Cephalopod type there, the ones gliding around. Careful of them, kids, they might look pretty when they move but Nautili have wiped out entire Huntsman expeditions that underestimates them. The bigger ones scuttling around on crab legs are Anglers, nasty pieces of work that paralyze their prey with some fear inducing stare. And the third gliding around…oh man, Razorfins."

"Aren't these all aquatic based Grimm?" Keith inquired. "I thought they favoured oceans."

"Anywhere else in the world you'd be right," Kurt surveyed the landscape. "But the Maw is one of the largest sources of black water in the world. Largest in North America as it stands. This is home to them."

"And a feeding ground if they spot us." Carlos did a count of how many dust capsules he had left. "Hunk, tell me you have a lock on the Lion."

After sorting through his pack, Hunk produced a tablet and hooked it up to a drone as Pidge and Keith worked on assembling it. "There's no satellite coverage here, nothing I can tap into anyway, so I'll need to run a sweep using the drone. It should still narrow the search."

"Hop to it. Shiro, when you're done with that thing take Keith and Lance and set up a perimeter." Carlos peered down at the vast expanse of black water. "I don't want us here any longer than needed."

"You know, it's hard to tell which of you was the leader of your team." Lance commented as the drone, propelled by gravity dust boosters, rose into the air and took off across the plains surrounding the Maw. "With Hunters, especially ones from Nevernest it's whoever has the first letter in the team name. But Kurt always seemed to be calling the shots, now you're leading the way."

"Not every team is like yours, with one leader." Carlos stabbed Warhawk into the ground near the ledge and leaned on it. "Ours…wasn't conventional by any means. Roberto was the best as not making someone want to shoot us after five seconds of conversation, so we made him take the lead spot."

"Honestly, the role seemed to rotate a lot." Kurt stepped up next to his brother in law. "When it came to taking on the Satyra or gangs in Nevernest, Carlos took the reins."

"Whenever it had to do with breaking into somewhere without being seen, Kurt was in charge." Carlos continued. "Roberto took the lead on patrols, rescue ops, anything that involved Grimm was his area."

"What about your fourth?" Pidge piped up. "Did he specialize in anything?"

Roberto inhaled sharply, then slowly released the breath. "Gregor…was happy to follow our lead. He was a big teddy bear, looked scary at first glance but just…" He shook his head and joined his team mates to gaze out at the Maw. "You'd have liked him."

Shiro sensed a story behind Roberto's answer, and he had a suspicion that it was the sort that shouldn't be pried into and so quietly signalled Pidge to let it be. For the next several minutes of silence to follow Hunk directed the drone to make passes over the Maw and its surroundings, scanning for the Lion's signature. The others silently stood guard, hoping that one Grimm wouldn't stray too close to their vantage point and alert the horde.

"I'm getting a reading, somewhere closer to the Maw's edge." Hunk reported. "It looks like it's coming from a sink hole on the eastern shore."

Kurt moved to his side. "Impossible. There was nothing like that the last time we were here."

"The last time we were here, there wasn't a resident with a penchant for screwing with people." Carlos growled, scanning the shoreline of the Maw for signs of this sink hole. "Hunk, does this sink hole look big enough for that Lion to fit through?"

"Uh…perhaps." Hunk lowered the drone down towards it. "The reading is getting a lot stronger. Running echo-pulse scan…it's less than a hundred meters down into a hollow cavern…with a large mass. A little bigger than any of the other lions we have."

"The Black Lion is supposed to be the biggest." Keith said. "Well…that's what my lion told me anyways."

"And all we need is to get past a whole field of Grimm to reach it." Carlos tugged Warhawk out of the ground. "Roberto, it's your call."

The larger man observed the terrain. "We could draw their attention to one end of the Maw, away from the sink hole. Just long enough to give you a shot at reaching the Lion. Would you be clear as soon as you reach it?"

"If it works like the rest of them did, then we can ride it right out of there and out of the Darklands entirely." Shiro answered. "We can swing past and pick you up."

"The hell you will." Carlos protested. "You get in that thing and fly its metal tail as far from this planet as you can. Go find whatever's signalling you out there and don't even think of coming back unless it's with 1) some major firepower and 2) experience in using said firepower without blowing your own face off."

"That was one time, man." Lance muttered bitterly, arms crossed and pouting as he looked away. "Who makes flares so sensitive that they go off if you drop them anyways?"

"Case. Rest." Carlos said sternly.

"Uh, guys?" Pidge raised a hand.

"Alright team, here's the plan." Roberto gathered Kurt and Carlos close. "Carlos, you're the fastest with your Ash Step, so you get into position first and aggro the Grimm."

"Guys."

"I'll come in behind the first wave and help you lure them around the Maw. Kurt, are you prepared to lay your life on the line to be our meat shield?"

"For the…" Kurt checked his tablet. "Eight thousandth, nine hundredth and forty fourth time: not gonna happen."

"Drat, then who will absorb the enemy's opening counter attack so Carlos and I can run away afterwards?"

"GUYS!" Pidge shouted, drawing all eyes to him. "…they're gone."

True to his word, the fields surrounding the Maw were bare of Grimm. Where thousands stood, not one could be seen now.

"Where'd they go?!" Lance frantically looked around as if expecting the horde to pop up from behind them.

"Someone just rolled out the welcome mat." Kurt announced, adjusting his sun glasses with one hand. "It's a trap. An obvious one."

"And no prizes for guessing who is arranging it." Carlos picked Warhawk back up. "We can't turn back now and he knows it."

"So what do we do?" Shiro asked.

Carlos looked to Kurt. "Spring the trap?"

He received a nod. "Spring the trap."

Xxx

The leap down the sink hole was like falling off the edge of the earth and into total, absolute stygian darkness. When they finally settled on solid ground this state persisted, with even the light from the surface barely reaching down enough for them to see one another.

"The Lion moved again, but not far." Hunk held up his scanner. "This way."

"Is that Grimm-Carlos the one doing this?" Keith asked.

"No doubt about it." Carlos held Warhawk up and ignited the blade, managing to illuminate the ground within several feet. "So stick close, because the crafty bastard will do everything he can to split us up and…"

Carlos looked over his shoulder to find himself standing alone. "…never mind." He sighed. "So, are you gonna come out, or are you gonna keep milking it?"

The darkness receded around him, but his surroundings were not that of a cavern, much less any interior setting. He was standing on the street of a city shrouded in rainfall, illuminated by colourful fluorescent advertisements…

 _Hong Kong…_

Carlos sheathed Warhawk and held a hand up, feeling the rain droplets against his skin and soaking into his clothes. Yet he knew better than to believe any of it to be real.

"Nice try." He pulled the hood of his coat up over his head none the less. "But it'll take a lot more than a walk down memory lane to stop-"

A car went through him. Literally. A limousine to be precise, mounted on gravity Dust thrusters instead of wheels as it shrieked down the street in an out of control spin that eventually brought it to a halt against the front of a restaurant, shattering glass across the interior. Carlos raced towards it, drawn more by curiosity than a misguided desire to help an illusion.

The limousine's hood ornament, shaped like a roaring panda bear, drew his eye just before the back door flew completely off its hinges and scraped across the wet sidewalk. From the vehicle emerged a man with a powerful, wide frame reminiscent of the very same species of bear. He wore a crisp white tuxedo under a black trench coat and had white hair with two round black ears. This, combined with the dark circles beneath his eyes gave the Faunus a clear cut theme to his appearance.

Smoothing out his overcoat, the legendary crime lord Pandabubba looked up to one of his vehicle's thrusters, finding it melted out of shape and eliciting sparks. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as he took a slow, heavy breath.

"And whatever did I do to bring this on?" He looked up. "I never set foot in Grimmfall."

A figure leapt down from where they had been perched on an overhanging street light, landing several meters from Pandabubba. "No, but you've reached that far before."

Carlos felt a chill as he saw the figure level Warhawk towards the larger man. "You've also reached Northguard before."

Pandabubba scoffed. "And if I did?" He brushed one hand along the dented side of his limo until he reached the driver's window, finding it smashed inwards and his driver slumped in his seat. "All of my dealings with Northguard were legitimate."

"Not all of it." The assailant pulled their hood back, revealing Carlos as he was almost a decade ago. "There was just one shipment that you had to grease a palm to get through customs. I want who and where it came from, then you can go on your way."

Pandabubba smirked, folding his hands behind his waist. "Astute work, detective. It seems you aren't the blundering ball of destruction most think you to be."

"Willing to prove them all right at the drop of a hat." The younger Carlos growled. "Who. Where. Now."

"Do you really think finding them will ease your guilt, boy?" Pandabubba asked. "It won't bring back the lives lost in those flames, the things that emerged in the aftermath…or the fact that you started that fire to begin with. In any case, that client used a middle man to communicate with me."

"Give me the middle man then."

"Even if I was inclined to, it would be hard for him to share anything after spending so long in an incinerator." Pandabubba shrugged. "It seems the one you seek was thinking ahead."

"Then what use are you to me?" The younger Carlos ignited Warhawk's blade.

"Hm…that's fire Dust." Pandabubba observed, making the young man stop mid-step towards him. "Why would a hunter famous for his fire semblance need that, I wonder? Perhaps…" His eyes narrowed. "The Phoenix's talons have at long last been clipped."

As the crime lord reared back one arm to take a swing, the illusion shifted position so that Carlos occupies the same space as his younger doppelgänger. He quickly dodged to one side, feeling a slight gust from how close Pandabubba's fist came close to grazing him. A quick Ash-Step bought him some distance away from the convincing illusion, but also caused part of him to smear across an invisible figure which recoiled and coughed until he reformed, drawing the ash flakes out of the air.

"Who's there?" Carlos demanded.

"C-Carlos!" The invisible man hacked, slowly dissolving into view to reveal Shiro, looking dry until the illusionary rain fell upon him. "What was that for? Where are the others? And how'd we get here?"

"Accident. Dunno. My evil clone." Carlos answered the barrage of questions in order and pulled Shiro up to his feet. "This is his work. He makes illusions, only unlike Rattlesnake Jake these ones can be as real as he wants them to be."

"Oh, not as real as _I_ want them to be, old friend." Pandabubba stomped towards them, wearing a sneer. "I may be the architect here, but you are the one laying out all the ground work for my convenience."

The panda Faunus' gargantuan form dissolved, giving way to a shorter, slimmer silhouette. A long dark coat fluttered behind the figure as their bare feet padded across the illusionary cement. Their hair was a long messy mane which obscured most of their face, with a thick scruffy beard further concealing all but a few hints of gray flesh.

"Then again I shouldn't be surprised." The man flexed one hand, conjuring a ball of fire which he palmed like a baseball. "You always like to punish yourself."

As the man raised his head, Shiro could immediately see the similarity. Beneath the layers of matted dark hair and the tattered trench coat he could see the same facial features in the man standing next to him. Everything except for the skin and eye tone were a perfect exact match to Carlos.

"How about I take a crack at it?" Carlos' dark doppelgänger flung the ball of fire, which quickly expanded into a crescent and then further into an infernal wave scorching its way across the ground, which was replaced by natural rock formation as the false world caved in around them.

The flames stayed though, and Carlos knew they were still as real as their wielder wished them to be.

"Get behind me!" Carlos pushed Shiro back and held up his hands, letting the flames sear his hands and forearms before he scattered them with a very real jet of fire that passed close to his doppelgänger, who gave a low whistle.

"Ooh, somebody's back in the saddle." It said, slowly clapping. "Not bad Mr Hunter, not bad at all."

Carlos levelled Warhawk towards the clone. "We're just here for the lion." He said. "Get out of our way and-"

"Really? That's your play?" His clone smiled in amusement. "Pal, nobody could _ever_ make us do the reasonable thing before, what makes you think you'd do any better convincing _another_ you?"

The illusionary street had faded completely, exposing a great cavern with the only light source being the hole through which the team had entered. Voices echoed across the expanse, hidden by rock formations and a great hulking figure that took up the centre…

 _The lion!_

The Black Lion was easily larger than what the pictures of the other Lions would have indicated. Besides possessing a bulkier physique it also had a set of red wings on its back. Its design and colour scheme, more intricate than that of its brethren, implied a higher importance.

It was right there, within reach…and the only thing in their way was the twisted, dark copy of himself grinning at them with those same obsidian orbs that it called eyes.

"And lo, did Carlos Hunter become so engrossed in the glorified paper weight that for a single critical moment he neglected to keep an eye on his opponent." The doppelgänger narrated dramatically. "A fatal mistake on most days, but fortunately his cunning and formidable nemesis had better things to do than snuff out some Klondike bar addict and his plucky sidekick, Major Tom."

Shiro stared on in puzzlement. "Is he…?"

"He does this." Carlos cut in flatly. "He thinks it makes him endearing or original."

"You're not exactly one to critique originality, brother." The doppelgänger shrugged. "After all, someone was definitely thinking of making you the Qrow Branwen of this shit show."

"Who is-"

"Don't ask." Carlos said sternly. "Shiro, go get your Lion. I need to have a talk with myself."

"At long last!" The doppelgänger beamed and stepped aside. "Go right ahead, Mr Shirogane. My need for the black lion has achieved its terminus."

Shiro appeared reluctant to comply until Carlos motioned him forward. "If he was going to do anything to you, he'd have already done it." He assured the younger man. "Go before he notices two equal sized pebbles next to each other and somehow takes them as a sign to change his mind."

Shiro kept his front to the clone all the way to the edge of the dome of light encompassing the black lion. As he neared it enough for his back to brush against the barrier, it parted to make an opening for him, only when it had sealed against any further intrusion did he turn and race to find the feline shaped vehicle's access point.

"So much better when the kids aren't running around and making noise, isn't it?" The doppelgänger clapped his hands together. "But they sure did help. They brought you all the way back here to me, dearest brother."

"That's what this was all about then." Carlos sheathed Warhawk. "You're looking to settle a score?"

"That's your schtick," his mirror image reminded him, "again: I've better things to do, like getting out of this glorified hotbed of celestial fecal matter that Old Sammy calls his back yard. To wit: I will be doing so with a little help from you, brother."

"Mhm? Okay, so there's the motive," Carlos nodded, feigning interested in the discussion, "but where's the part where you replace me with some alternate version of myself who would ever give you a hand with anything, much less a way out into the world?"

"The extent if your wit never fails to astonish." The doppelgänger drawled. "You will help me, brother, because I have what you want the most in all of the world."

"A way out of this conversation?"

"The lead that dried up with Pandabubba."

Carlos' entire body locked up as his brain struggled to process the statement. His immediate thought was to name his clone a liar and disregard it all, but…throughout the years since the unfortunate mission that had spawned this dark copy of himself, Carlos had always retained a vague awareness of his copy's mental state. The extent of the link varied based on how hard they worked to keep one another out, but in this instant the doppelgänger granted him full access to glean the sincerity in his words.

"How could you possibly know?" Carlos demanded. "You've been stuck here all this time."

"Ah, but you've been my eyes and ears all this time." The clone wagged a finger at him. "As for how i pieced it all together, well…I'm not going to share that just yet."

A sword of stygian metal sprang from his sleeve and parried aside Warhawk. The clone side stepped Carlos' lunge and angled the dark blade for a stab only to take the full force of Carlos' booted foot digging into his midsection and launching him up into the nearest cavern wall, shattering the rock face and embedding the clone deep within.

"Tell me!" Carlos demanded and launched himself up in pursuit, creating a short lived burst of flames to propel him a few extra meters. "Tell me who, or I'll-"

"Kill me?!" The clone erupted from the crumbling rocks and slammed into Carlos in mid air, sending them both spinning before they broke away and landed several feet apart. "You know better than anyone that if you still had the guts for that you'd have done it _years_ ago. Let's not waste time on pointless threats: I have something you want, you have something I want. Supply and demand are set, so I fail to see where this becomes complicated."

"I'll give you one reason." Carlos grasped Warhawk with both hands and swung upwards from the side, unleashing an arc of flames as he and his counterpart clashed, dancing around one another at speeds that almost made them like blurs to the untrained eye. "And as soon as I guess exactly how many people you'd kill if I let you out of here, I'll give you the rest of them."

The clone have an irate groan as they broke apart, landing on parallel perches along one side of the cavern. "Oh don't start sounding like the Justice Friends of all people! What do you care if I end up having some fun? People die every day, anyone I deal with would be a drop in a swimming pool."

"Yeah, my drop." Carlos growled and raced along the wall to deliver a bisecting slice only for his clone to leap over it, flipping through the air before he thrust both of his bare feet down, forcing Carlos to raise one arm in defence for his clone to kick off of and launch himself through the air again. Carlos gave chase, landing not far from where their clash had begun. "Anyone you hurt: that's on me."

And what if all the ones you've already hurt, brother?" The doppelgänger challenged. "Six-hundred and forty-two. That's how many we killed in Northguard, wasn't it?"

Carlos' vision turned red in an instant "Shut. Your. MOUTH!" This time he didn't need any fire dust to unleash an infernal jet that left a glowing yellow line along the cave floor as it narrowly missed its target.

"Why?! Because I speak what you know to be true!?" The doppelgänger challenged, weaving back and forth to avoid the growing inferno. "Deny it to yourself all that you wish, but never try lying to me. I know your thoughts, your shame…I know that if young Lance's life hadn't been in danger you would be content to never make so much as another spark for the rest of your life. That incident didn't take your semblance away like you told the old man in Nevernest."

One lash of fire struck home, but the clone braced his sword against it and fortified his aura against the jet of fire pouring over him.

"I know why you suppressed it, brother!" The clone shouted. "For the same reason that I'm hiding down here!"

"You and I are nothing alike!" Carlos snarled. "You might have my face, my voice and some of my memories but you don't know anything about-"

"Because WE'RE SCARED!"

The jet of fire extinguished. Carlos slowly lowered his hand and stared down at his quivering hand, then to the long line of molten rock he'd made across the cavern. It cooled down faster than what was normal, and from the aftermath he saw that the rock had been restructured entirely. Instead of a mass of warped rock, glass and gemstones he saw loose, fertile soil with the beginnings of something green already poking its head into view.

"You're still scared of yourself, brother." The clone slowly lowered his weapon to his side. "Of what you can do. I'm scared because what little use I ever had to Sammael expired not long after you departed. The moment he sets his eyes on me and spares a second glance is the last moment of my life, but outside the Darklands I will at least have a fighting chance. Would you deny me that?"

Carlos quickly inserted a fire dust cartridge into Warhawk and rescorched the entire line clean of any signs of life. "If I did-" He began. "If…I let you out, what guarantee do I have that you and I won't fight again some day?"

"All real brothers quarrel." The doppelgänger pointed out. "And by the time we do, you may finally have found that precious closure that you've been pining after. I'd welcome the chance to face the Infernal Hunter as he was in his prime, without the chains of guilt weighing him down." He gestured impatiently with one hand. "But oh well, I suppose the readers need their dose of interpersonal drama for that cathartic release they crave."

"The- what?!"

"Don't worry about it." The doppelgänger waved dismissively. "The point is this: you and your team mates might be able to withstand me long enough to either escape or subdue me, but can you say the same for your younger acquaintances? I've no interest in them brother, but maintaining so many different illusionary scenarios at once can lead to unfortunate accidents."

Nearby, Pidge stumbled into view. "Matt! Wait!" He cried out, one hand outstretched and his eyes glimmering with tears as he chased after a phantom born of his own imagination. "Dad, please! Don't leave!"

Keith was nearby, from the sound of it he was fighting against something and either losing or being led by the illusions into harming himself more than whatever enemy he was up against. Lance and Hunk's frightened cries echoed across the cavern.

 _Damn it Kurt, where the hell are you!?_ Carlos looked around desperately. _Roberto! Get your hairy ass out here and help!_

"Tick-Rock, brother!" His counterpart crooned. "How long before one of them trips and falls on a stalagmite- and for you lazy readers reaching for the google tab: those are the ones that come out of the _floor_. May it will be the emo boy swinging around mommy's knife? The girl- er, pardon, I mean the _boy_ with a missing daddy and big brother? The aspiring lady's man? Perhaps it will be Sir Not Appearing As Much in the Original Version over there? Or the giant with a heart of gold? I don't even need to choose, I just need to let the seconds tick by..."

"ENOUGH!" Carlos bellowed and slowly lowered Warhawk to rest the tip against the ground. "…how do I do it? How do I set you free?"

"Now we come to the meat of the matter! The villain's master plan!" The doppelgänger rubbed his hands together. "As it so happens, the Semblance which you so desperately tried to bury is the key to my freedom."

"What are you hoping will happen?" Carlos asked. "It burns Grimm like gasoline on dry wood."

"Ah, but that is exactly the plan!" The doppelgänger raised one finger towards the roof as he sauntered towards Carlos. "Were I a Grimm, or even a Fallen, I would most certainly die! But fortunately, I'm not…I'm a construct made of both Grimm and human genetics. I just want you to burn away the fat and leave the muscle, so to speak. Your flames build as much as they destroy, heal as much as they damage and it is exactly that complete ass pull of a plot twist which I am counting on! Burn away every part of me that Old Sammy would have influence over and leave the juicy, squishy human parts."

He gestured to the scorched line of dirt. "I just needed to be absolutely certain that it would work first, hence my little performance to goad you into taking the kid gloves off. It wouldn't do for me to jump head first out of the frying pan and into the fire without at least testing my hypothesis first." The doppelgänger smirked. "Now that I've seen the effects first hand, I'm quite prepared to proceed to the next stage: a real trial by fire."

"As much as setting you on fire would please me to no end, how are you so sure it will work?" Carlos asked, sheathing Warhawk across his back. "How do you know you won't just burn away?"

"Why if that were to happen then you'd win anyways!" The doppelgänger groaned in irritation. "Brother, you literally have nothing to lose by cooperating with me. Either it works and I'm no longer stuck here, in which case our business is concluded. Or it doesn't and I'm dead, which is a load off your back. Either outcome is a good way to get this heap of a story's plot rolling again so for the love of the almighty Oom: stop debating the validity of my ingenious plan and SET ME ON FIRE!"

…

Carlos exchanged a glance with an astounded Shiro. "…you're the boss." He said with a shrug and then flicked one hand, conjuring a stream of flames which erupted towards the clone, who grinned and spread his arms out to his sides.

"Hallelujah, baby!" He cackled and was hit full on, being engulfed within the inferno that lit up the cavern.

This time Carlos was careful to keep from scorching any nearby surfaces, restricting the jet of flames to a certain distance. Shiro turned away to protect his eyes from the glare, the heat alone being enough to make him stagger away to find cooler air.

Then the flame winked out and darkness closed in again.

"Is he…" Shiro slowly lowered his hands.

"Toast." Carlos said flatly, seeing nothing but several ashes blowing where his doppelgänger had been. "So much for all that 'ingenuity' of his."

Pidge gasped and fell to his knees. "Wha- dad?! Matt?!" He looked around. "What- but I was just-"

"It's okay Pidge." Shiro ran over and helped him up. "It was all illusions. Carlos…took care of the one making them."

"But it was so real!" Pidge insisted.

"That was the point." Carlos sighed. "Shiro, you'd better find out how to get that Lion in the air and fast. He won't be the last problem we have out here if we overstay our welcome."

The rest of the kids and Team RGCK trickled in. Keith appeared to have taken a few falls during an illusionary knife fight while Lance and Hunk had endured a more stereotypical haunting in the form of movie monsters. Kurt and Roberto had spent the entire time in what they described to be a state of total sensory deprivation, unable to interact with or view anything besides one another and forced to carefully navigate their way around any environmental hazards with Roberto's sense of smell to help guide them to the kids' locations.

To Roberto, whose senses had always been particularly sharp, experiencing even a few minutes as a blind and deaf man was torture.

"So Clone-You lured us all the way here, made us fight through a damn Lava T Rex and put us through firepits, flaming swamps…all so he could make you burn him alive?" Kurt asked, keeping his back to the group as he polished his sun glasses clean and then returned them to their normal position.

"That's the short of it." Carlos nodded.

"…well, on the bright side you can finally say with a straight face that you beat me at something besides Tag." Kurt sighed and pocketed his cleaning cloth. "So, he's gone now?"

"Unless that was another illusion, yeah."

"So," Kurt looked to the Black Lion. "Is that it then? No more bad guys? We're next to the Black Maw, there should be thousands of Grimm killing us and all I can tell for certain is that Sammael or one of his Lieutenants has to know that we've been trampling through their back yard. So that begs the question: why haven't they hit us with everything they have to force us out or end us?"

"You know, I really hate it when you ask good questions like that, Kurt." Carlos muttered, arms crossed and watching as Shiro approached the shield dome around the Lion. "The other me…he was terrified of Sammael finding him here. Said that after that little stunt Sammy pulled in making him he lost any usefulness he had…and that his only chance was being able to leave the Dark Lands as a human."

"Well it looks like for all his planning he didn't account for one thing," Kurt said as the shield rippled and opened up a gap for Shiro to step through, "that for all his self styled intellect, he was still gambling on fifty-fifty odds. Seems the coin landed on the wrong side for him."

Carlos' eyes wandered to the side, seeing several flakes of ash carried on an errant breeze up towards the mouth of the cavern. "…so it seems."

The shield dome fell and the Black Lion rose to stand on all fours. " _I did it!_ " Shiro cried through external speakers. " _The Lion, it's responding to me!_ "

"Then that means it's time for you kids to get going." Roberto declared. "All of you, in the Lion."

"But shouldn't you come with us?" Pidge asked. "You're asking us to leave you in the middle of the Darklands!"

"Kiddo, we're Huntsmen." Carlos patted Pidge on the shoulder. "We do this for a living. You've got something bigger than us waiting for you where ever these Lions want you to go. Just try and bring me back a nice souvenir from the other side of the universe and we'll call it even, alright?"

Hunk lifted Carlos up in a hug. "Thanks for all the help you gave us Mr Hunter!" He set Carlos back down and hurried towards the Lion while Keith followed, giving a nod to the huntsmen while Lance exchanged a quick high five with Roberto.

The teens all stepped up to the Black Lion as it lowered its head and opened its maw wide for them to climb in.

" _We'll come back._ " Shiro promised, slowly lifting the Lion up off of the cavern floor. " _Whatever it is these Lions want us to find, if it can help with the fight back here we'll come back and help._ "

Carlos gave the Lion a lazy salute. "Looking forward to that day, Shiro. Best of luck…and try to have fun, it's outer space after all."

The Black Lion rose sharply, partly striking the walls of the opening in the cavern's roof before it blasted through, ascending into the sky and shrinking into a small dot until it cleared the perpetual cloud cover over the Darklands. Kurt checked is tablet and found that the signal from the kids' tablets had already vanished entirely as they left the atmosphere.

"They're clear." He confirmed. "I imagine NASA will have footage of the other lions meeting up with them on their way out."

"Where'd they hide the others anyways?" Carlos asked.

"Oh, on the dark side of the moon." Kurt shrugged.

"Not the part that was blown up, was it?"

"Course not."

"Cool." The trio fell into silence for a short time. "…you know, this whole 'getting the team back together' thing isn't as bad as I'd imagined it would be."

"Says the guy who wasn't left stumbling around in the dark for five minutes." Roberto snorted. "And now we still have to deal with being fugitives from the United States government."

"Yeah…that might take some working on." Kurt agreed. "But I think I have an idea."

"Oh boy, here we go." Carlos groaned. "Another master plan by Kurt Malcolm."

"Step one: get out of this cave and most certainly get out of the Darklands." Kurt turned and began to examine several branching cave openings close by. "Step two…we need to make a stop in Denver."

"Denver?" Carlos asked incredulously as Roberto began to play the game of 'eeinie, meanie, miney, moe' with the tunnels. "What'll we find there?"

"Oh, beside a sympathetic ear…one of my most reliable informants among the Liberty Legion." Kurt answered.

"Those jack booted thugs? They're only one step below P.O.I.N.T!"

"Yeah, except these guys aren't trying to show up the Justice Friends in a perpetual cock fight." Kurt replied.

"Moe!" Roberto pointed out his final choice. "We're going this way."

"Lead on, big guy." Carlos nodded. "And why don't we try Global Justice?"

"Didn't Betty try to shoot you?" Kurt asked, falling into step next to Carlos while Roberto led the way.

"Every woman with a gun and credentials in espionage has tried to shoot me at least once, I learn not to take it personally." Carlos shrugged. "But for real, what can this guy give us that Betty can't?"

"Passage out of the continental United States." Kurt answered. "We have business that we put on hold to help Shiro and his friends, but now that this has been dealt with…of course, you needn't go with us if you don't want to. Sebben will work on getting us cleared of all charges, you could just lay low until that happens."

"Oh no, you're not dropping me like a hot potato." Carlos said sharply. "The old man said you were tracking the cause of your folks' death, pretty much the one thing you've been doing for as long as I've known you. You've used me as a distraction among many other things for that goal, so the way I see it I may as well make all those weeks of detention worth the trouble."

"Are you sure?" Kurt asked, sounding concerned. "You might be away from your family even longer."

"Yeah, but wrapping this up means you won't be going dark on my sister for months on end." Carlos countered. "Face it, Specs: I'm stuck to you like glue now."

A low chuckle escaped from Kurt. "…good to have you back, Sparks."

Xxx

On the surface surrounding the Black Maw, a figure stood upon the shores of the great black lake. It towered higher than any man and seemed to be shrouded in shadows that left only the outline of a figure with great horns and two pinpoints of light for eyes.

" _They have taken the Lion._ " He said. " _Just as you predicted. Now they are off the table._ "

"And out of the reach of our good friends in the good old U.S of A's government, Old Man Sebben and his merry band of heroes." The doppelgänger of Carlos said, his body reforming out of ashen flakes behind Moloch. "You're welcome, by the way. I highly doubt the boss would be pleased to see Altean technology being reverse engineered. It would've affected that monopoly he has."

" _And what do you seek as payment?_ " Moloch inquired, keeping his back to the doppelgänger.

"Payment? Why my friend…" The clone held up one hand…which emitted a red light that breached through the flesh of his hand. "This job was a reward in itself. Carlos and his friends think that I'd been wrong, meaning that I have the benefit of them as well as their colleagues believing me to be neutralized. But most importantly of all…Sammael can't simply snap me out of existence with a thought anymore."

" _His semblance…it truly burnt away the Grimm essence then?_ "

"Oh, it would've killed me on any normal day." The clone admitted, then tapped one finger against the glowing dot on his hand. "But you see, that's why I made sure to have some insurance."

" _Is that…_ " Moloch recoiled away. " _….how?_ "

"That's my secret to know and yours to infuriate yourself over." The clone grinned. "Yes, Moloch…I wield part of the Dominion Code. A small fragment, but just enough that it allowed me to…tilt the odds in my favour."

" _Then its ability to alter reality…your illusions were not some side effect of your creation then._ " Moloch deduced. " _Carlos. His direct contact with the Gem of Souls. The Mind Gem allows one to understand the Dominion Code on an intellectual level, but the Soul Gem…_ "

"Allows for what I call Dominion Code Lite." The clone chuckled, pacing casually. "I won't be ripping apart reality on a whim anytime soon, but for now I have to say I'm more than pleased with what this one little speck has given me. I'm a genuine human, one bound to the Soul Gem just like Carlos now!"

"… _which means that Carlos and his sister are no longer as indispensable as before._ " Moloch realized. " _That is why you were truly created: to test this possibility! To think, he suspected this from the beginning!_ "

"Old Sammy is quite the tinkerer, and since it gave me an out from the whole 'my life lays entirely on his good mood' clause of my birth I was glad to be an obedient little lab rat." The clone clapped. "Congratulations, you pieced it together."

" _And what do you intend to do with your newfound…value?_ "

"You mean…the fact that I can lead Sammy to the Soul Gem now?" The clone turned and began to walk away. "Tell him that I'm always willing to talk over a fine cup of tea and a whole restaurant's worth of….not Klondike Bars, I've had the taste of those damn things embedded in my taste buds for so long." He shuddered. "Just let him know that, will you? Oh, and one last detail…I refuse to take my progenitor's name."

" _A new name to go with your new lease on life, then?_ "

"Yes!" The clone clapped. "I am nothing like that bumbling pyromaniac, that much he was totally right on! I will not shackle myself to the legacy of failure and ineptitude that he and his friends have carved for themselves. No…I shall take a new name! After the great King of the Franks and Father of Europe himself, I take the name…Charlemagne Hunter, a far worthier successor to the family name I'd say."

" _You do understand, Charlemagne, that if you seek to deprive our master of the Soul Gem then he will hunt you down,_ " Moloch pointed out, " _yes?_ "

"Oh yes, of course he will. He hunts everybody who can be a threat to him. The Gunslingers, the Elementals…" Charlemagne held up his fist emitting the red glow. "But something tells me, old friend, that if he so chooses to make an enemy of me for enjoying what I've earned, he will find that I am not like his usual brand of prey. If he is willing to be reasonable then he might just get his prize, otherwise…if he pushes me he might find it falling into the hands of his enemies."

Doing a dramatic flourish as he spun about, he beamed at Moloch. "Isn't supply and demand just the loveliest thing? Anyways, I'd like to stay but I'd like to see what the big deal is about this 'gelato' stuff I keep hearing about. Tah-tah for now…old friend."

With that, Charlemagne burst into flames and rose into the sky…in the shape of a great bird made of flames which gave a musical cry as it flew away across the Darklands.

Moloch watched the great avian form fade into the distance. " _…just as the master expected then._ " He nodded. " _How unfortunate. If you'd been a good little clone, you might just have lived to see the endgame of his plans._ "

Xxx

End of Chapter


	8. Chapter Seven: Denver Delights

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

""

Xxx

( _A village surrounded by a crumbling wall is in flames, with bodies of Faunus and Mobians strewn about. A young man, Carlos Hunter, stands before the blaze, eyes wide in horrified shock. The flames are reflected in his irises as a figure emerges from the embers and slowly turns towards him. Cut to black.)_

 **Human by Rag'n Bone Man starts playing**

( _A wide shot shows the cityscape of Grimmfall. Quickly zooms in towards a bar on the outskirts where Carlos sits up as if suddenly awakening from a dream. He seems momentarily shaken before his table, laying next to where his head had been laid, turns on. His attention is drawn to it immediately._ )

 _ **I'm only human…**_

 _ **I'm only-**_

 _ **I'm only-**_

 **WARNING. SYSTEM COMPROMISED. PARANATURAL INCURSION DETECTED WITHIN NETWORK.**

"Helloooooo readers!" Charlemagne Hunter, standing against a completely white backdrop, held his arms out to his sides with a big grin. "Charlemagne the Wondrous here to interrupt the oh so edgy and not at all overt choice of intro song. Given that we've begun a whole new plot arc of this story I've taken it upon myself to bring to you a refreshing change of pace!"

He snapped his fingers, conjuring a comfortable chair for him to sit in next to a roaring fireplace.

"Now, either you're all caught up or you're the that one dick who decided to skip all the way to the last chapter and then complain about it making no sense." Charlemagne rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I think I may start drinking from this. Oh wait, safer alternative…"

He snapped his fingers once again and conjured a bowl of gelato with a spoon. "Ah, the real food of the gods! Not like that mass produced, processed cheese excrement of a snack." He took a spoonful and gave a satisfied hum. "Ah there we go! Urge to commit mass suicide of brain cells dropping…gone! Anyways, I'm going to assume that you're all completely caught up…then I'm going to torture every last one of you with a massive recap just to stall the start of this brand new arc!"

He looked up. "Thank Lord Maximus for that idea, the clever bastard." He waved towards the sky before returning his gaze towards the fourth wall. "Our story begins with a man named Max Carlos Hunter…whose name seriously makes you think we're looking at a secret agent. I mean seriously: all he's missing is a tux, a low commitment to women and a gun…oh and swag. Ah, but I forget: he's married! To the she-devil known as Melissa no less! Not really spy material there…but moving on!"

He snapped his fingers, producing several tv screens which shifted through different pictures and film reels. "The clueless wonder was hired by the moustachioed man with the eye patch in charge of defending the world…and no I don't mean Nick Fury, shut up. I'm speaking of Phil Ken Sebben, a clever play on Falcon Seven, only this version isn't a complete lunatic! Unlike his more well known alternate self, this one has the brains and more importantly the body of a thirty year old demi-god."

Charlemagne fanned himself with one hand. "Dear me, I'm getting a little warm just thinking about that. Don't judge. Moving on!"

"Philly Ken Cheese Steak hired this jerk who had managed to land forty detentions, launch fifteen different food wars in the cafeteria and caused the legendary meltdown of the science lab in which Mr Cheepers the class pet was an unfortunate casualty." He brought up the image of a gerbil in a cage with the words 'MR CHEEPERS: 201X-201X'. "I feel the lack of a dating system is a bit of a drag, but apparently we go by numbers and letters here. Everybody fears the coming 202A! That's the Y2K here, folks!"

"So anyways: Philly tells him that his old partners in crime, Kurt and the Bearded Devil- by which I mean Roberto, broke into a lab, stole important files and apparently pantsed General Specific on their way out." Charlemagne gasped dramatically. "What is this? The author never told you?! Why the nerve of him!"

"Moving on: so these two trashed Specific's base and made off with five hormonal teenagers who for some reason are connected to magic flying space lions…I could not make this up if I was any higher." Charlemagne glanced down to see his gelato replaced by a joint which he quickly dismissed from existence. "I know what you're thinking: another series about another group of plucky, eccentric and unusually competent and mature teenagers fighting the universe with their giant animal themed and colourful feline mechanized contraptions! Exactly what this story needs, yes?"

"So while they were off travelling the world, they fought a snake man, a Sportsmaster rip-off and his brats, a bat girl with a fetish for shiny objects and the world's most dysfunctional Wild West couple. Finally their little dog and pony show led them to the ever so cleverly named Nowhere, which is where Carlos came in. Every good circus act needs a trained donkey after all."

Charlemagne glanced down again to see that his chair had been replaced…by a donkey with a party hat. "No offence Mr Hooves."

Mr Hooves yee-hawed while subtitles appeared below him stating. "None taken."

"So Carlos got into his clown ship, flew to clown town and a three ring circus broke out. He managed to reunite with his old friends in the typical passive-aggressive friendly manner and took them all on a lovely jaunt into the Darklands where for some odd reason we missed the part where Lance got his butt set on fire exactly four times by a Grimm T Rex…made of lava. A freakosaurus Rex is the exact name…and we missed it! Again, thanks to the sheer idiocy of the author who decided to get lazy rather than treat you to this awesome and hilarious montage!"

Charlemagne snapped his fingers, causing one of the screens to begin playing footage of Lance running around, being chased by a Freakosaurus Rex…with his butt on fire and screaming in a very high pitch.

"See? This one's essentially Sokka in space! Only he actually gets the girl…" Charlemagne rubbed his chin. "Only she dies…wait, that makes him even more of a clone of Sokka! Clone buddies!"

He snapped his fingers, and for a moment the camera panned to the Blue Lion flying through space in formation with the other four. In the cockpit, Lance suddenly found a pin on his shirt that had not been there before: a golden star which said CLONE BUDDIES.

"Uh…wha?" He blinked dumbly before the camera returned to Charlemagne.

"So Lance and his friends went off in their other lions into space to do their own independent show! Can't wait to never see it." Charlemagne rubbed his palms together. "Oh…but we come to the best part of this story, though I suppose saying it's the best part is like saying it's the least disgusting piece of manure in the litter box. For you see, Carlos had a dark little secret that he left to fester in the Darklands: little old me."

"Yes, it is true! I…am his dark side." Charlemagne said dramatically. "The Vader to his Anakin, the Joker to his Batman! The Bizarro to his Superman…only I speak sanely. Anyways: using a piece of the Dominion Code-" He paused and winked while holding up his fist containing said code. "-that goes to any Generator Rex Fans, by the way. Anyways, this little thing is part of the big equation that's going to ruin everybody's weekend at some point. I got my hands on a little piece of the full deal and used it so that Carlos' attempt at turning me into barbecued chicken backfired, instead freeing me."

He got off of Mr Hooves and walked towards the screen, passing by a poster advertising Grimmfall: Ragnarok. He paused and punched a hole through where Carlos' face was in it.

"Much better." He nodded. "Now I'm free…and believe me, boys and girls…I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. So sit back and try to keep your underwear on, because now I must expose you to the train wreck of idiocy and melodrama that is…Grimmfall Ragnarok! Cue the chapter!"

Xxx

 **Chapter Seven: Denver Delights**

 **Darklands Airspace, Manticore-3 (airborne)**

" _You failed to catch them?! AGAIN?!"_ General Specific howled, his image propped up on the airship's control panel between Big Bob and a reclining Rouge.

"They were gone before we ever got there." Big Bob replied stoically. "But on our way in we spotted something launching itself clear out of the Black Maw and out of sight. In all likelihood it may be the last of the Lions."

" _No! No! No!"_ Specific stamped his feet. " _Those Lions were the key to Project Aegis! Without them, my department will be set back by years!"_ He ended his tantrum and glared at Big Bob. _"What am I paying you for?!_ "

"Right now: payback." Big Bob answered. "Private Public was considerate enough to inform us that he'd lost all trace of the prisoners, but he still has the scent of Malcolm and Lupine. They're leaving the Darklands, fast. You can bet that Hunter will be with them too for strength in numbers."

" _Then you have a new assignment._ " General Specific gritted his Teeth together so hard that Big Bob felt his own jaw ache. " _Eliminate Team RGCK! I don't care about arresting them anymore. I just want them DEAD!_ "

"Ooh, getting dark now." Rouge whistled. "Alright General, but if I'm going to be upgrading from our original agreement to contract killing I'm going to need some…modifications to the terms of our partnership."

" _Fine then! What do you want?_ " The General demanded impatiently.

"If we eliminate these three…" Rouge leaned forward in her seat. "You have to stop holding out and give me what we agreed on."

" _Kill all three of them and you'll have your confounded gem._ " General Specific folded his hands behind his back in what Rouge could only assume was a poor attempt at hiding his fingers being crossed…given that the projector, which constructed a full reconstruction of the General, cast a reflection against the cockpit canopy. " _And don't fail me again, or else! General Specific, over and out!_ "

As the General's image winked out, Big Bob sighed and closed his eyes, lifting off his mask to pinch the bridge of his nose. "In it for the money, in it for the money, in it for the money."

"I don't like being lied to." Rouge scowled and lounged back in her seat, one leg crossed over the other. "Especially when the attempt is so transparently obvious."

"What's that underdeveloped smoke stack got on you anyways?" Big Bob asked.

"Something that I've been after for a long time, something which that wretched little man and his storm troopers somehow got hold of before me." Rouge's gloved hand wrapped around the arm rest of her seat, digging into the material which groaned under the strain. "And he's been holding out on handing it over to me so I can do all these small jobs for him. Extortion's the word."

"Maybe we both are in need of a new employer." Bob proposed.

Rouge glanced up. "You have any in mind?"

"I've a couple lined up in Denver who would pay handsomely for Team RGCK, dead or alive." Bob nodded. "Fortunately we're going to be in the neighbourhood anyways."

Xxx

bThree days later/b

bDenver Bullet-C, en route from Cheyenne/b

"You have the _worst_ taste in disguises ever." Roberto glared at Carlos from across the aisle. "Of all time."

"What's wrong?" Kurt shrugged, enjoying a cup of coffee. "I personally think that Bates Masters suits you, Roberto."

A serving drone entered the car at the instant, carrying a tray perfectly balanced on its hand. " _One drink for passenger ID: Masters, Ba-_ "

"HERE!" Roberto called over the final word, still glowering at his teammates.

Carlos snickered, his arms folded behind his head and his seat reclined as far back as it could go-though he'd made sure nobody was seated behind him when he'd done this. "That's what you get for letting me decide the names, big guy." He said with a wink. "At least Kurt, or Mr Richard Hurtz, is having fun. I mean we're on first class in the Denver C-Bullet, so why let something as minor as a name get you down?"

"Besides the fact that people kept snickering at us on the way in? It draws attention." Roberto groaned, taking his iced cap and rubbing his temple. "Why'd I get back together with you two again?"

The speaker overhead chimed.

" _Attention passengers, we have just passed through the Fort Collins waypoint and will be entering the Downtown Denver station in approximately sixty minutes. Our present speed is 95 miles per hour but will be subject to change based on projected Grimm activity. Please enjoy your ride and thank you for using the Denver C-Bullet line."_

"Should we expect trouble at the station?" Carlos asked, glancing sideways at Kurt.

"If Sebben managed to redirect the government's search efforts south like planned then we shouldn't have any trouble." Kurt answered, examining his tablet. "But we should still be ready for anything. If we go making trouble in Denver we're bound to attract attention."

"You mean from the Dragon." Carlos stated, appearing less than concerned about this possibility. "He's on Phil's list."

"But he can't publicly support us." Kurt pointed out. "It's one thing to operate as Denver's own personal protector outside of government supervision, it's another if he aids us in evading federal custody."

"Which is why I'm pretty sure he won't show up if it involves us." Carlos reiterated the same opinion he'd voiced several times between now and their departure from the Dark Lands. "Look, lets not worry on what could happen and focus on what needs to happen next. So we go to Denver, then what?"

"Then I get in contact with a trusted associate who can smuggle us out of the country until Sebben can make this blow over." Kurt answered simply. "Specific's case is built on his operation being legitimate. If people look too deploy they'll find that he was holding children captive and performing experiments that weren't approved by Congress. If that comes out, it inconveniences his patrons and he goes down after they toss him off the life boat. Phil will talk him down or take him down with all the goods we sent him, one way or another."

"Unless that midget does something crazy to get at us first." Carlos had considered the possibility of any of Specific's bounty hunters catching up to them and been appropriately cautious.

"Eh, what are the chances of- oh crap." Kurt tilted his head to the side, peering out into the aisle to the front of the car…

A tall and heavily bearded man stood in the doorway, each of his leather boots making s resounding click of metal as the club shaped spurs tapped against the floor. A tattered, dark poncho covered his broad shoulders while thick, muscled arms contained by a red shirt stuck out from under the fabric. Each of his hands were robotic, gun-metal grey with playing card signs emblazoned on the circular wrists: clubs, hearts, spades, diamonds and ace.

Ezekiel Clench, better known as Zeke, tilted back his wide brimmed hat and bared his yellowed teeth in a grin as he sighted Kurt, who quickly leaned back out of the aisle.

"Forget what I said, we have a problem." Kurt calmly shut off and pocketed his scroll. "Twelve oh clock, far end of the car."

"I already smell the booze off him." Carlos maintained his relaxed posture. "Where there's smoke there's fire, so the Missus has to be close by."

"Peekaboo." The emerald green hook of an umbrella handle clenched around Carlos' throat and tugged him back against the head of his seat, making him grunt in discomfort. "Sorry to butt in like this boys, but a lady gets mighty lonely on a ride like this."

Josephine Clench, a dark haired beauty with equally dark eyes, deep red lips and a smile that had fooled many a man leaned over Carlos, who managed to smile despite his present position.

"Pardon my rudeness, I thought the row behind me was vacant." He said, keeping his hands where they were.

"All's forgiven, sugar." Josephine brushes one gloves hand through Carlos' hair. "That generous bounty of yours will more than make up for it."

Other passengers in the car had taken notice of this and reacted uncomfortably. Zeke gave a sharp whistle that drew the attention of any too occupied or asleep up to this point.

"Hunter business!" He barked. "Everyone out. Now."

The passengers quickly surged out of the car, taking whichever exit was closer. Carlos noticed a young Canine Faunus girl drop her doll, which resembled the lady heroine Miss Spell, on the way past. She reached back for it with a distressed gasp, but her mother was too focused on pulling her away from the danger.

"Considerate of you to keep them out of this." Kurt noted, eyes focused on Zeke's hands that remained by the mercenary's sides. "Most mercenaries couldn't care less about collateral damage."

"On the normal day we wouldn't," Josephine shrugged, "but you see, we're under contract. And big time Generals gotta cover themselves with clauses about not hurtin' innocent bystanders needlessly and all that. Of course if y'all hadn't behaved yourselves so well the needless part might have become moot. It'd be too easy to put a spin on anything that happens, like- oh say…three fugitives killing their way off of this train in a desperate escape."

She leaned down further towards Carlos, their faces inches apart and inverted from one another at this angle. "So how about you mind your manners another few seconds and this can all be over without a mess?" She whispered, her lips hovering dangerously close.

"Are you bein' serious right now, Jo?" Zeke grumbled, crossing his arms. "Playin' with your target? I should've left your butt back with the General."

"Aw don't be a spoilsport, Zeke!" Josephine leaned back a bit with a titter. "You know you're still the only man for me."

"One. Hundred. Meters." Zeke reminded her.

"It's probably better this way anyways." Carlos said, catching in his periphery Roberto clenching one of his hands tightly, so much so that he drew blood from his palm. "After all…you've got nothing on my wife and I'd hate to break your heart after just meeting you."

Josephine frowned. "Oh? And what makes her so special?"

"Besides being the scariest woman in the world?" Carlos deformed into a cloud of ash and reformed behind Josephine, pulling her into a headlock and turning the tables in the blink of an eye. "She never leaves herself open like some rank amateur."

Josephine growled and stomped down on one of Carlos' feet, her heels digging into the material of his boots enough to make him grunt and loosen his grip enough for her to reach back with both arms, hook her parasol across the back of his neck and fling him over her head. Carlos landed in the aisle with a roll and unfolded Warhawk to its full length in time to deflect three shots from Zeke, whose left hand had settled on its Spade form, that of a semi-automatic handgun with the tip of his index finger as the muzzle.

Kurt vaulted over the back of his seat and delivered a kick to Josephine's chest, knocking her back through the air. She landed feet first, balancing on the heads of two chairs as she tore away the southern style skirt and dress to reveal a more practical apparel trousers, vest and blouse beneath the heavy layers. She upholstered twin pistols and aimed them at Kurt, who reached behind his back and flicked his wrist, causing a rapier to extend to its full length as he whipped it out and pointed the tip towards the bounty hunter.

"Did your mama ever tell you not to hit a lady?" Josephine taunted.

"Did yours ever tell you not to start a fight if you weren't ready to get hurt?" Kurt shot back.

Further towards the front, Carlos ash-stepped between rows to avoid Zeke's gunfire. Given the narrow confines the bounty hunter couldn't switch to some of heavier weapons for fear of hitting Josephine (even that was more for practical consideration, as taking her out would give all three huntsmen one target to focus on), but he made due with keeping Carlos at a distance with pot shots from both of his hands. Carlos attempted once to close in for a finishing blow, but Zeke showed the folly of this by switching one hand to its diamond setting: extending a short but lethal blade that grazed Carlos' cheekbone was he leaned away from Zeke in the midst of his charge. This brought him into a tumble which he climbed back up from and twisted about to parry a stab from the bounty hunter.

"Boy, you're out of your league!" Zeke chuckled and stepped forward with both sets of blades unsheathed.

A heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him short. Zeke slowly looked up to see Roberto towering over him, now standing over two feet taller than before and rippling with muscles that weren't there previously. A thick coat of fur spread over his body as bones and muscles reshaped themselves.

"Uh…" Zeke stared at what appeared to be the largest wolf mobian he'd ever seen. "Oh boy."

Roberto snarled in his face and delivered a haymaker that sent Zeke flying straight down the middle of the car. Carlos dodged out of the way in time and watched as Ezekiel ended up making a hole in the door, with only his lower legs sticking out through the breach.

"Ugh…" Zeke pulled himself back through, placing his hat back over his scalp. "Well that sure came outta left field." He muttered, looking up to the sight of the Infernal Huntsman with his blade wreathed in flames and joined by the Big Bad Wolf of Grimmfall whose fangs were bared in a snarl.

"Admit it," Carlos said, stepping aside to let Roberto stomp towards the bounty hunter, "You know you done messed up."

As the Big Bad Wolf took one shuddering step after another towards him, Zeke pulled himself to his feet and straightened out his hat a little. "Well, Ol' Zeke is never ashamed to say when he's in over his head." His lips curled into a smirk. "But that's what backup is for."

A shadow passed over the car's skylight. Both Roberto and Carlos tilted their heads up to see the silhouette of a military gunship flying overhead, matching the C-Bullet's course and velocity with its aft hatch open…allowing for Rouge the Bat to disembark and leap down, her body spinning while her boot-clad legs were meshed together in what became a drill covered in a layer of aura.

"Oh shit." Roberto swallowed while Carlos knelt down and picked up the Miss Spell doll dropped earlier, tucking it under his jacket.

The reinforced glass shattered as Rouge tore through it like wet paper, raining shards across the interior and bringing in a roar of gusting wind. The bat mobian slammed both feet into Roberto's chest, knocking him back and using him as leverage to push off into a back flip before stopping herself in mid air with a flutter of her wings, using this to gently set herself down feet-first.

"A find good morning to you, gentlemen." She said with a sultry drawl.

Moments later Big Bob leapt down through the breach, leaving the gunship tethered to the C-Bullet and on auto pilot to keep it at a steady altitude. He stood up to his full height and opened a telescopic javelin which emitted arcs of electricity from both tips.

"You've all made the General mad." He informed Carlos. "That capture order became a kill order when you let his prisoners leave the planet."

"Something tells me he'll learn to live with disappointment." Carlos took hold of Warhawk with both hands. "How are Helga and Olga doing?"

"Embarrassed and angry, respectively." Big Bob replied, spinning the javelin around with one hand and reaching around behind himself with the other. "But they'll grow out of it. Until that day comes…they've got their dad to clean up after them."

He unleashed a barrage of three shuriken which Carlos either evaded or deflected. Behind him, Roberto snarled and leapt across the seats towards Rouge, who slid down between his feet and flipped back onto her feet before delivering an Aura enhanced kick to his lower back.

Xxx

Further back along the car, Kurt was still locked in combat with Josephine, the two of them balancing atop the various seats. The bounty huntress unleashed shot after shot only for Kurt's rapier to deflect them if they didn't miss entirely. To add insult to injury he was doing all of this with a single hand, keeping the other one behind his back.

"You're not bad, Malcolm!" Josephine called, performing a flip to avoid a low cut at her legs while Kurt ducked down to avoid being shot in the head. "I like a man who knows how to handle himself, though my dear Zeke did leave the bar rather low."

"Lady, even if I wasn't married I wouldn't entertain the idea of you for all the money in the world." Kurt swept one foot up and kicked away one of Josephine's pistols before impaling the second through the barrel, leaving her unarmed and forcing her to back flip to where she'd left her parasol, which she pulled apart to reveal a concealed sabre within.

"Oh now you're just breakin' my heart, sugar." Josephine cooed, entering a stance which told not just of a thorough formal education in the art of fencing but also of decades of practical experience. "Didn't your mama ever tell you to show a lady some respect?"

Kurt matched her stance. "Yes. You're no lady." He felt a flicker of satisfaction at seeing the tightening of her jaw and flare of rage in her eyes at this.

Xxx

Rouge flew back up through the sky light, pursued by Roberto onto the roof of the train where he had to dig his claws in to keep from being piked up by the intense winds.

"What's wrong, handsome?!" Rouge called, anchoring herself to the roof with her boots. "Can't keep up?" She released herself from the train and leapt up, letting herself sail back towards Roberto and kicking him so hard that he was momentarily sent flying head over heels before he hit the roof again and managed to dig his claws in once more.

"I thought the Big Bad Wolf would have a little more to offer!" She called before repeating this attack. "I guess that's why you should never meet your-"

Roberto twisted aside at the last moment, closing one hand around Rouge's outstretched legs just above where her boots end. Spinning around, he slammed her down against the train with a snarl before flinging her clear of it and into the trees on one side of the track. She recovered and took to the air again, racing to catch back up with the C-Bullet, pumping her wings with Aura enhanced strength to carry her faster.

"Now that was just a downright unchivalrous thing to do." She growled.

Xxx

Back inside the train, Carlos was caught between Zeke and Big Bob, working to avoid shots from the former while parrying attacks from the latter.

"Do you morons even know why General Specific was after those kids?" He weaved out of the way of a stab and closed his hand around the javelin, pulling Big Bob past him to place him in Zeke's line of fire and force the gunman to hold fire for fear of hitting his comrade.

"Do you know how little we care?" Big Bob replied, his javelin knocking Carlos' legs out from under him before a jab to the Inferla Huntsman's midsection sent him flying towards the forward section of the car, through the hole that Zeke had made earlier to land in the car beyond, surrounded by panicked faces of passengers.

Including a particular Faunus with brown dog ears and a matching tail whose face was streaked with tears.

Reaching into his jacket, Carlos pulled out her Miss Spell doll and held it out to her. "You dropped this, kiddo." He said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

The girl's face brightened as she took the doll. "Thank you, mister!" She cried, hugging it to her chest.

"All in a day's-" Carlos felt a metal claw close around one of his ankles before he was flung up and back through the damaged door. "WORRRRRRRRK!"

Zeke whipped his arm back, flinging Carlos into the roof of the train car after extricating him from the breached door. "Ain't getting away that easy, punk!"

A siren wailed from every speaker in the car. The operators must have finally been made aware of the situation and were executing protocol for dealing with clashing huntsmen aboard the C-Bullet. The train possessed several parallel lines which could be accessed with the flip of a switch, but what most didn't know was that individual cars could be detached from the train and redirected along these lines while the rest of the train could proceed along its planned route. This was referred to as the Q-Line, or Quarantine Line.

The car upon which the battle took place had just been redirected onto this track, carrying it away from the rest of the C-Bullet and its passengers. Secondary mechanisms kept it moving, heading for the Quarantine Terminal where security forces would converge once the car was safely contained.

"Oh I wasn't looking to run." Carlos ash-shifted his way free if the mechanized claw and shot up to deliver an upper cut to Zeke's jaw. "Was just waiting until I didn't have any bystanders to worry about!"

Warhawk erupted into flames, this time not because of any fire Dust and burning far hotter in any case. Big Bob's javelin was cut in half, but he was able to execute a quick retreat to put himself out of reach of the Infernal Huntsman.

"And now things get interesting." Big Bob reached behind him and unfolded twin climbing picks with razor sharp tips.

Xxx

Kurt backed up against the back door of the car and ducked, hearing metal shriek overhead as Josephine cut through the metal. He reached out to one side and slammed his fist into the controls, hammering the 'open' button as she lunged, aiming for his heart. Kurt parried to one side and locked a hand around her wrist as the door slid open, revealing the open high speed rails stretching away behind the call. Josephine yelped and flailed as Kurt swung her out through the door, stopping her from falling off by grabbing a fistful of her vest but leaving her dangling precariously with only him to hold her.

"I don't want to kill you!" He told her. "But if you, your ex and your friends don't back off: we will."

Wind flapping in the gusting wind, Josephine managed a smile. "Well I can't ignore a generous offer like that now, can I?" She held her hands up to her sides and let her sword drop away…

And in the instant that Kurt let his guard down, a capsule of gravity dust in the hilt, linked to a matching one in a bracelet that Josephine wore, made the weapon fly back to its owner's hand before she delivered a vicious slash across Kurt's chest. He gasped and stumbled back, his aura flashing as it took the brunt of the blow so that it left barely a scratch on his chest. Josephine grabbed onto his wrist with her free hand so that he pulled her away from the ledge and delivered several more swift blows in quick succession, quickly draining Kurt's aura and delivering more severe damage that left him staggered and winded.

"Sorry darlin'," Josephine poised her blade towards him and reared her arm back, "but bein' merciful is a good way to get yourself killed in this business."

She stabbed down towards Kurt, who raised one hand to block…

And in a loud ring, Josephine watched as her sword shattered upon contact with the minuscule layer of aura still protecting Kurt's flesh. Shards of metal flew back and struck her, barely being deflected for the most part while a few fragments slipped through and embedded themselves into her torso. With a gasp, she dropped her shattered weapon and stumbled back, hands on her midsection as blood began to seep out.

"I'm sorry too." Kurt stood up, emitting a low hum as his assortment of new cuts sealed themselves shut and vanished. "But you took my offer and spat in my face."

Josephine sank down along the side of a row of seats, trying to form a plea.

"Fortunately for you." Kurt held one hand out, his aura flaring around his palm as the same humming sound filled the air. "I'm not a cold hearted killer."

Xxx

Roberto rolled out of the way of a dive attack by Rouge. "When are you going to call it a day, lady?!" He snapped and clawed at the air as she passed by again.

"Just as soon as we have you boys taken care of." Rouge replied, landing a kick to one of Roberto's legs that force him down onto one knee where she hit him two more times before he managed to close his jaw around one of her legs, eliciting a pained cry from the bat Mobian even as her Aura protected her from any significant injury.

Rearing his head back, Roberto slammed her down into the train roof and flung her over his shoulder. She recovered and landed unsteadily on her feet, locking herself to the train again and placing a hand on her lower leg where some blood leaked out from a set of neat bite marks that pierced through her signature boots.

"Whatever General Specific promised you, he'll never deliver." Roberto said. "You're not a killer, Rouge. I know you wouldn't be working for his kind unless he has something you want. Badly. Tell me what it is and maybe I can help you."

"There's nothin' you could do to help." Rouge replied through clenched teeth, her wings unfurling. "The only way this ends is…" Her eyes slowly turned upwards and widened in shock.

Roberto initially thought this to be a ruse, until his ears picked up on something whistling through the air. He turned and glanced up to see a figure rapidly falling towards the lone train car. The most that he could deduce was that it was a man in the moments before impact.

"Holy SH-" The man slammed down through the rail just ahead of the train car, shattering the steel line and causing the car to fly off of it at over one hundred miles an hour. The gunship attached to the car was sharply tugged out of its stable automated course and sent spinning as the mooring lines tethering it to the car snapped. It crashed in the trees close by, tearing down a number of them before exploding in a bright flash.

Inside the train car, both Carlos and Kurt found themselves airborne and spinning through the interior along with their opponents. Kurt held tightly to a silent and unresponsive Josephine while Zeke and Big Bob clung to anything they could. The train car ploughed through earth and trees until it came to the perimeter wall of Denver itself. Built to withstand immense punishment and propelled at sufficient speeds, it slammed through the wall with the force of a cannon.

It sent a massive cloud of dust up into the air as it crashed into the area beyond. The district in question was fortunately not a residential district but a collection of warehouses and workshops, meaning there were few around to witness the incident and none close enough to be injured or worse.

As the train car settled, alarms wailed in response to the breach and security systems engaged to. Prevent any Grimm incursions until defence forces could arrive on the scene. The car itself toppled down onto one side as it lay half buried into a warehouse wall. Roberto, his claws sunk into the roof during the entire ordeal, let himself drop with a groan while Rouge flew down, having wisely flown herself clear just before the derailing.

"What…was that?" She asked, shaken. "Was he with you?"

Roberto stood up and shook his head to get dust out of his fur. "…I thought he was with you." He confessed.

"Could I have a hand in here?" Kurt called, waving a hand through one of the shattered windows that now face towards the sky. "We have some wounded."

The wounded turned out to be Josephine, who was being handled with surprising tenderness by her ex-husband. Zeke made no effort to attack any of them as Roberto helped him to lift her up through the window without cutting her on the remaining glass fragments.

"Aw hell Jo…that's why I always told you to wear some real armour." He whispered, cradling the dark haired woman. "Far as I care this mission is done, no matter what the General says. You all do what you want…I'm takin' Jo to a doctor."

"We won't stop you." Kurt nodded. "…but I thought you hated her."

"I do." Zeke admitted, hopping down off of the overturned train car. "…but sometimes you don't stop lovin' someone as easy as that."

"Now that I can understand." Roberto looked around. "Was Carlos thrown clear along with Big Bob?"

As if specifically to answer his question, the end of the car impaled through the warehouse wall bulged and shuddered from an explosion within. A moment later Big Bob was flung out through the far end and landed on the debris laden street, unconscious and bearing scorch marks on his person. Carlos stepped into view soon after, vaulting through the now parallel-aligned doorway and dusting off his jacket.

"I'm right here, thanks for worrying." He said, rolling his neck to either side until he felt a 'pop'. "What hit us?"

A new cloud of dust erupted from the middle of the street as a shape crashed down with the force of a missile. From the haze emerged a gaunt figure clad in tattered attire, upper body adorned with Norse runes and lower face covered by an overgrown beard.

"Do you have _any_ idea…" The man sighed, rolling both of his shoulders as he slowly climbed out of the crater he'd made. "How long I've been waiting for you to show yourself?"

Carlos stepped down from the rubble surrounding the train car. "I'm sorry, do we know you?"

"Who, me?" The man chuckled softly, turning to take in his surroundings. "No, I'd imagine not…but I've still been waiting on you for a long time. I was starting to think you'd never show up."

Kurt peered at the man, taking slow, cautious steps towards him while Zeke took this opportunity to make himself scarce, taking Josephine with him. Rouge fluttered over to Big Bob's form while Roberto began to position himself to flank the stranger from one side.

"Which of us were you waiting for?" Carlos kept Warhawk down by his side, not wielding it aggressively yet keeping it at the ready.

"Oh I think you can guess." The stranger held up a hand with one finger uncurled and turned to face Carlos, either ignorant or apathetic to the fact that he was flanked by his team mates. "Only one of you has anything worth wanting."

Kurt unsheathed his rapier. "Those are Norse runes, or more specifically the Asgardian variety from pre-first contact." He said. "Does Valhallen know that you're in the neighbourhood?"

"That worthless runt and his precious string toy?" The Asgardian cackled harshly. "I'd be surprised if he'd ever been able to lift those precious locks of his long enough to notice I'd been around."

Roberto cleared is throat. "While this is all very interesting…what do you want and why did you just try to kill us?"

"What do I want?" The Asgardian turned his pale eyes towards Roberto. "What do… _I_ want?" He lifted a hand and tapped himself in the chest. "…freedom."

A bright glow spread throughout the runes, rising all the way to the Asgardian's eyes before he dashed forward and slammed into Roberto faster than he could react, striking him with a punch that created a concussive shockwave as it launched him back. Both Kurt and Carlos raced to his aid, but the Asgardian simply raised one bare foot up and stomped down, creating a shockwave so strong that it caused the concrete around him to shatter in an expanding spiral that knocked both men into the air. Kurt was able to make a controlled landing which he executed with a roll before rising back up and stabbing toward the stranger's exposed back.

The rapier sprouted out from between the man's ribs, causing him to briefly grunt in pain and look down, treating what should have been a fatal injury as little more than an annoyance.

"Stabbing a man in the back?" He asked incredulously. "Don't know why I'm surprised."

Kurt gaped. "That was right in the heart…even Asgardians can't survive that! How?"

"Allow me to demonstrate." The Asgardian grinned and twisted around, leaping up to execute a kick the flung Kurt through the wall of the warehouse, leaving the rapier still impaled in place until he pulled pulled it out and tossed it aside with a scoff. "Mortals and their toys."

Carlos had managed to climb to his feet by this point. "Okay…not how I imagined today going." He muttered, bringing Warhawk up. "But that's fine by me."

"That's the spirit!" The Asgardian chuckled, stretching his arms as the glow faded from his tattoos. "Let's see what you can do."

"Mind sharing your name first?" Carlos asked, entering a stance and igniting Warhawk's blade.

"You can figure that out on your own." Holding one hand up, the Asgardian beckoned to Carlos. "Try not to disappoint in the meantime."

Carlos noticed in his periphery Rouge dragging Big Bob into the shelter of the train car. "Don't worry." He said, shifting to turn the Asgardian's eyes away from them. "I aim to please and shoot to kill."

Xxx

Far across Denver, a heavily armoured figure looked towards the source of the security alert.

"First a Quarantine Detachment, then a breach not five minutes later." They mused. "No coincidence there."

They tapped into the local law enforcement and militia frequencies. "This is Matthews, I'm responding to the breach alert. Keep your men back until I've dealt with the cause."

The Dragon of Denver engaged his flight jets and took to the sky, prepared to deal with whoever or whatever had decided to cause trouble in his home town.

Xxx

End of Chapter


	9. Chapter Eight: Dragons of Denver

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

"HAH!" Charlemagne Hunter leapt into view. "No edgy intro song for you! And I'm sure as hell not letting the author waste anymore time thinking of some philosophical statement from Major Tom and his plucky AI sidekick."

Seating himself in a comfortable red chair, he crossed one leg over the other and held up a bubble pipe to his mouth. "That's right! From now on the first paragraphs of this story shall be spent with me! I will make use of that time to tell every last one of you off for wasting your poor, poor brain cells reading this story. Ah, but speaking of which: we finally reach an epic showdown! Hopefully it'll better than mine."

Dismissing the bubble pipe, he stood up and walked to the side where Mr Hooves stood. "And watching with me will be my own plucky sidekick: Mr Hooves!"

Mr Hooves made a 'yee haw'. "Hi."

"That's right! We'll be sharing our own enlightening thoughts and wisdom, as well as no small amount of spoilers for this plucky little waste of neutrons from a bunch of lanky nerds with absolutely no social lives." Charlemagne beamed. "It's going to be fun. But speaking of spoilers: I'll probably be dumping a few your way with Mr Hooves on the look out to remind me of the big one at the end."

He glanced down at his donkey companion. "You'll remember to remind me, right?"

Mr Hooves looked up. "When?"

"Uh, anytime will do." Charlemagne shrugged.

"When?"

"Later, when we're knee deep in this sewage storyline."

"When?"

Frowning, Charlemagne waved dismissively. "Just pick some time between now and the end of the chapter and remind me!"

"When?"

"Grrr…pick a random number!" Charlemagne blurted out in exasperation. "Any number between one and one-thousand and count down to zero. Once you reach zero: that's when you remind me!"

Mr Hooves tilted his head. "Okay." He began counting with one hoof. "Five. Four. Three-"

"NOT NOW!" Feeling his head preparing to explode. "Okay, count down from one thousand! Once you reach zero: REMIND ME!" He breathed deeply following his rant.

"…okay." Mr Hooves began to count down once more. "One thousand, nine-hundred ninety-nine-"

Groaning in despair, Charlemagne muttered. "In your mind." He said through clenched teeth. " _Please._ "

"….when?"

Now glaring down at the donkey, Charlemagne held up one hand. "Are you doing this on purpose?!"

"What?"

"That! It's like you're set up by some sort of wise ass- oh." Charlemagne sighed and brushed one hand through his hair. "Well played, Lord Maximus. Welcome to Grimmfall: Ragnarok everybody."

"When?"

"Okay, you're a piñata now." Charlemagne snapped his fingers. "ROLL THE CLIP!"

Xxx

 **Chapter Eight: Dragons of Denver**

 **Denver, Outer Districts**

The Asgardian cackled as he smashed through a wall of solid concrete. "Is this all?!" He taunted as Carlos dove away and rolled to a standing position. "Is this the great Infernal Huntsman I've heard so much about?!"

"Yeah, not all of us are lucky enough to be born with godly everything." Carlos ignited Warhawk's blade and dashed forward, dragging the tip along the ground and swinging it up to fling some globs of molten material at the Asgardian's face, forcing him to raise one hand to block it and leaving him open when Carlos sliced across his torso three times in quick succession and followed up with a pommel bash that knocked him back several steps with cauterized but deep cuts across his chest. "But we sure do make the best of what we've got."

The Asgardian grinned before the damaged flesh dissolved before Carlos' eyes to be replaced with fresh, pale skin that bore not a hint of damage. "Ohhhhhohoho!" He chortled. "That's more like it! And here I was worried that you'd be boring."

His expression sank. "But that's not what I'm after, no no no…not by a longshot." He wagged a finger at Carlos. "This doesn't have to get bloody if you be a good little mortal and hit me with everything you've got, not just those little sparks."

"You're the second person who seems to have a hard-on for getting burnt." Carlos extinguished Warhawk. "The last guy had leverage; you just have my attention."

"Oh, so that's a 'no' then?" The Asgardian put his hands on his hips. "Well that's too bad, you see. I'm not my brother, I'd have left you be if you just gave me what I want, but…" He flexed his individual fingers and balled them into fists as magical energy coursed through him, illuminating his tattoos and eyes. "Who am I to say no to a little exercise?"

The next thing Carlos registered was a flashing pain in his jaw and his feet leaving the ground before he slammed into the side of the train car still partly stuck through the warehouse wall, leaving an impressive imprint. His aura absorbed the worst of the impact, but that one blow alone had put a concerning dent in his reserves.

There was no time to properly recover. Carlos moved aside with an ash-step just before the Asgardian punched a hole through the side of the train car and came after him, dashing from one spot to another, cackling as he threw punches that would be fatal to anyone without Aura protection. Carlos saw the inevitable outcome of this dance and knew that a change of tactics was in order.

 _I was hoping to save this for something big, but I guess a rabid Asgardian will do!_

As the tattooed man came in for another swing, his arms coated in a thin layer of frost that reached all the way down to his fists, Carlos moved Warhawk away and raised his other arm up. A quick injection of Aura caused a device hidden beneath his denim sleeve to engage, unfolding an expanding metal disc which shredded the fabric and formed into a sturdy shield which absorbed the impact of the punch…and held without so much as a dent. The moment of confusion by the Asgardian gave Carlos an opening which he used to cut into his outstretched arm at the elbow, slicing deep into it before he landed several more hits that staggered him. Finally, Carlos slammed the shield's rim into his opponent's face, a cartridge of gravity dust creating a repulsive burst that flung the Asgardian into the air…

Where Kurt met him, recovered from the earlier sucker punch and looking all too pleased after he administered his own lighting fast barrage with his rapier and then a kick that flung the Asgardian down to where Roberto met him with an upper cut. Back up he went, but only until Kurt slammed both feet down into his chest to send him back on a downwards course. This time Roberto grabbed the ragged man and flung him next towards Carlos, who held up one arm and clotheslined him as he passed by.

Without a sound the Asgardian flopped to the ground and rolled a few times from the momentum of his flight. Kurt and Roberto regrouped to Carlos' flanks, keeping their eyes on the unmoving form.

"Enjoy your nap?" Carlos asked.

"While it lasted." Roberto growled. "Carlos, forgive me for asking, but you've a history of antagonizing all kinds of people. What did you do to piss this one off?"

"Hey, my hands are clean in this." Carlos replied defensively. "He wanted me to do to him what I did to Dark-Me."

"So do it!" Roberto demanded.

"He can't!" Kurt protested.

"I already told him as much." Carlos agreed. "Remember that time that guy ran after me, saying that he 'wasn't' going to kill me? Remember all the alarms that set off? Well this guy telling me to incinerate him is setting off a few."

"Well you set off Dark-You, no problem!" Roberto argued.

"Roberto, he's an Asgardian!"

"So?!"

Kurt sighed. "You might be the team leader but history and mythological lore was your weak point."

"Get to the point before he gets back up!" Roberto pointed to the now shifting Asgardian.

"I took a look at those tattoos he has, and I think I have some idea who he might be." Kurt explained. "They say things like 'cursed', 'death' or…" He grimaced.

"Say it." The Asgardian spat out a glob of blood and wiped his beard. "Go on, mortal."

"Ragnarok." Kurt said. "I might be reaching here…but you're not just any Asgardian, are you? All the ones we know of appear prominently in Norse Mythology. Thor, Loki, Odin, Valhallan…Baldur."

Baring his bloodied teeth in a grin, the Asgardian laughed. "So you ants really can figure it out!" He clapped. "Bravo!"

"Okay…what's that supposed to mean?" Roberto asked.

"He's a son of Odin." Carlos answered. "Don't be surprised, Kurt. I actually liked Mythology class. But unlike Thor and Loki, Baldur is supposed to be a universally beloved god of light…fated to be killed by Loki. His death was supposed to be one of the omens that signal the coming end of Asgard."

Baldur groaned. "Oh, father sure did love to share that prophecy after the Norns went and blabbed it." He muttered, leaning his neck to either side with a pop.

"But…that prophecy is supposed to be defunct now." Kurt continued. "Because one part of it detailed who is supposed to die and when…and Thor is supposed to be near the top of the list. He dies fighting something called Jormungandr, a great serpent that poisons him. But only after Baldur here kicks the bucket."

"As interesting as all this is," Roberto glared at Baldur. "Why are you hassling us for?!"

"Not you." Baldur pointed at Carlos. "Him."

"…okay, so if we step away you'll stop hassling us, right?" Roberto asked, receiving a light slap to the chest from both of his team mates. "Hey, fair question!"

"Pal, I don't know what your beef is with me." Carlos stated. "I've never been to Asgard, barely been within a mile of Valhallan and I don't touch Asgardian stuff as a policy. All that cosmic magic just isn't my style."

"Oh but the All-Father didn't send me." Baldur shook his head, giving a 'tsk'. "I'm here on my own time, and the sooner you play along the sooner the pain ends."

"Don't do it." Kurt urged Carlos. "Whatever he wants you to do, Odin won't take kindly to us burning one of his children alive."

"Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious!" Carlos replied in exasperation. "Look- Baldur, was it? Why don't you just head back to Asgard before you cause an interplanetary incident? Besides, there've got to be better ways of…whatever you're hoping to do than picking a fight with us."

"Wish that were the case," Baldur stretched and rotated his arms to their full extent. "But I ran out of patience before your precious clan's founder was even a twinkle in his father's eye."

"What is this about anyways?" Kurt demanded. "You're not here on Odin's behalf, Valhallan always reports when one of his people visit so I'm pretty sure he doesn't know you're here. So what do you want?!"

"…to feel," Baldur whispered, and then was right in front of them with magic coursing into his upraised fist. "ANYTHING!"

"Son of a-" Roberto yelped before Baldur's fist slammed into Carlos' shield again, this time sending out a wave of concussive force that knocked both him and Kurt flying, though this time they were able to land upright. "Carlos just burn him! If he wants it so bad then let him have it!"

"Not. Happening!" Carlos grunted, straining to hold the Asgardian back.

"Then it's back to basics!" Baldur wrenched Carlos' shield arm aside and delivered a spinning kick to the small of his back that flung Carlos away. "Hit me with anything else you've got and I'll still keep coming!"

"I believe that." Kurt moved to Roberto's side. "Look at him. We beat him half to death and all those cuts and bruises he had are gone."

"I noticed." Roberto nodded. "Even Valhallan doesn't heal that fast. What's up with this guy?"

"That…might also be part of the myth." Kurt swallowed as Baldur walked towards them leisurely. "It's said that after the prophecy for Ragnarok was set, Odin's wife Frigg, or Freya or whichever she goes by went to everything in all the Nine Realms and made them promise not to harm him. After that the gods would throw all kinds of stuff at him and watch it bounce off harmlessly."

"How does that make sense?" Roberto whispered, taking a step back with Kurt.

"My bet is on the true story being that she cast a spell on him." Kurt answered. "Asgardians treat magic and science as one and the same so I wouldn't be surprised if their Queen could pull it off. There's only one thing that's supposed to be able to harm him."

"Great! What is it?"

Kurt hesitated. "Mistletoe."

"You mean those little flowers they hang over people to make them kiss?"

"Well I- DIVE!"

Baldur seemed to have exhausted any patience he had for letting their hushed conversation go on. He stomped downwards and generated a series of bursts of magical ice that tore open the concrete in a line that led towards the pair, forcing them to separate.

Roberto got up on all fours. "Well then hit the nearest holiday store and grab us some!"

"I can't!" Kurt cried out, dodging a series of magical orbs that Baldur sent flying his way. "We need real mistletoe!"

"Well where can we find some?!" Roberto dashed towards Baldur.

"WE CAN'T!"

"WHY NOT?!" Roberto leapt atop some rubble and dove at the Aesir.

"THEY'RE EXTINCT!"

Baldur grabbed Roberto by his throat and flung him up overhead before swinging him down into the ground hard enough to leave a deep imprint. "Thank you for that generous reminder." The son of Odin drawled, glaring up at Kurt from the corner of his eye. "That's why I'm in need of an…alternative."

He staggered to one side as Warhawk buried itself into his side. A gravity Dust capsule in the hilt summoned it back to Carlos' grasp as he landed close by and helped Roberto to his feet.

"That's what this is about?!" He demanded. "Are you just that desperate to die?!"

"Can't say I'd mind!" Baldur shrugged as his burnt flesh healed over. "But if there's no prophecy hanging over my head, I'd much rather settle a few matters first." He pointed up at the sky. "Matters…at home."

"You've gotta be kidding me." Carlos stabbed Warhawk into the ground. "Forget it. I don't care what family issues you've got going for you right now. These flames aren't some quick fix for curses! Best case scenario: nothing will happen. Worst case: you'll be dead and I'll be the one left holding the bag when Asgard find out I killed Odin's son!"

"Whatever problems you have, we don't want our world to deal with the fallout." Kurt said, approaching carefully. "Look: if you want to break this curse then power to you, but this can't really be the way!"

Baldur snorted. "So you don't know then?" He tilted his head curiously. "Funny, I thought someone from your bloodline would be an insufferable know-it-all like Loki…but I guess the cosmos is just full of disappointment."

"What in Bloody Golb is that supposed to mean?" Kurt levelled is rapier towards the Asgardian. "If you think I skipped a lesson then by all means feel free to share with the rest of the class!"

Baldur considered this momentarily. "Hmmmm…no." He decided. "I've seen your ilk before, boy…and I just know that not knowing is the worst thing possible for you." He grinned wickedly. "You'll have to find out the hard way."

Then he dashed over behind Kurt and grabbed him around the throat, lifting him off his feet and flinging him down head first. Kurt's aura saved him from a broken neck, but he was still left open to a savage kick from Baldur that flung him like a cannon ball. Roberto snarled and tackled Baldur from behind, taking hold of both of his wrists and using this leverage to twist Baldur's arms around and lift the smaller man up. This position would have placed immeasurable amounts of agony on his shoulder blades and leave him unable to build up any momentum to get free…

But Roberto had not accounted for one thing: he had used this technique on Humans, Faunus, Mobians and many with enhanced strength, cybernetic limbs that would show physical strength beyond organic limit…

But this was an Asgardian, an Aesir and son of Odin.

Baldur hissed through his clenched teeth as his arms quivered with strain, twisting around at the shoulders before he began to force them apart. This slowly drew him back down while pushing Roberto's arms out to the sides. The Faunus gaped as he tried to force his hands back together only to find that his captive was resisting with a level of force that he would have expected from high powered machinery designed to exert thousands of pounds of pressure per square inch.

Carlos quickly realized the danger and ash stepped towards them. "Roberto, get away!" He shouted- too late.

Baldur's feet touched the ground and with a howl he twisted one hand free and spun about with a haymaker that caused Roberto to dig a shallow trench almost fifty feet long before he came to a halt. Without pausing to savour this he held one hand up and caught Warhawk by the edge, a coating of magical ice over his hand stopping the sword (pun not intended) cold. The momentum of Carlos' leap caused him to lose hold of his weapon and land in a heap several feet away.

"Slow and weak," Baldur said with an air of disappointment, shaking his head. "Slow. And. Weak." He stabbed Warhawk into the ground with such force that more than half of the blade was enveloped, ensuring that Carlos couldn't easily recall it to his grip again. "You mortals rely on all your toys to do your fighting. Your toys…and your semblances."

He walked towards Carlos. "You know what you need to do, boy." He crossed his arms. "You know there's only one way that this ends."

Carlos glared up at him and began to form an expletive response only to stop and suddenly smile. "Yeah, I think I do see how this ends." He winked and ash stepped away as the roar of thrusters filled the air.

Baldur turned and found his vision quickly being filled up by a gargantuan, winged figure that dove down straight towards him. "Oh great, even more of-"

A boot made of solid alloy was buried into his ribs, launching Baldur into the crashed train car. The Asgardian's body, propelled beyond the speed of a bullet, sliced clean through it like butter and crashed into the warehouse's interior. The perpetrator behind this lowered himself down to the ground, disengaging multiple thrusters built into his armoured, mechanized form.

"I don't appreciate it when people bring their fights to my town." He said, his violet optics lighting up. "But given that you three didn't start this one, I'll forgive you this time."

Carlos finished reforming close by. "Well gee, the Dragon of Denver." He patted off his jacket. "First a crack team of mercs, then the Norse God of Light and now you. Just tell me you aren't here to fight us also, because as you can see," he motioned to the warehouse where Baldur gave an amused cackle from the darkened interior, "we have a full plate at the moment."

"I'm here because Sebben warned me that you'd be coming into Denver." Dracon, aka: Joseph Matthews responded as he unfolded a pair of shoulder mounted gatling guns and aimed them towards the breach. "He also warned me about all the collateral damage that I could expect to follow."

"Eh, bite me and take it up with this guy." Carlos tugged Warhawk out of the ground by hand only moderate effort. "And don't be afraid to go all out. He can't die."

"That is what _these_ are for." Dracon unleashed twin sprays of Dust enhanced bullets as Baldur crashed out through the breach, his body wreathed in arcane light and hooting in delight as multiple holes were punched through his torso, briefly slowing him down.

Quickly realizing the ineffectiveness of his weapon, Dracon detaches the gatling guns and engaged his boosters to moved back as Baldur leapt into the air and punched a crate into the ground where he'd been. "Alright, not quite what I was aiming for!"

"Useless!" Baldur snapped, quickly catching up to Dracon and hitting him with an uppercut that launched him skyward. "You mortals never could build anything decent on your own."

Dracon recovered and dove towards Baldur, unsheathing two of his beam sabres. Baldur casually sidestepped a downward swing and then back-stepped just out of reach of a second slice that left a scorched line across his torso for several moments.

"You can't keep this up all day!" Baldur unleashed a blast of light that forced Dracon back.

In the brief respite he had, Baldur's bright aura was replaced once more by a coating of frost as he stomped his foot down, generating a spike of ice which slammed into Dracon, failing to breach his armour but pushing him further back. Before this could persist for long the spike was cut in half by a single swing from Carlos as he ash stepped over it.

"Light and now ice?" Dracon pushed aside the severed edge and moved to Carlos' side. "How many tricks does this guy have?"

"My answer: he's a god and Asgard's supposed favourite, I'm pretty sure a lot of rules are optional for him." Carlos shrugged. "But he's right about one thing: we can't keep this up all day. He keeps coming back for more no matter what we throw at him."

"What does he want anyways?" Dracon demanded.

"Long story." Carlos ignited Warhawk's blade. "But the way that this is going, I might just have to give him what he's after."

"That's more like it!" Baldur grinned. "That's a good little mortal. There's no shame in surrendering, after all your kind never could manage to keep up-"

The God of Light suddenly jerked forward before he was lifted up. Puzzled, he looked down at his chest to see metal pipe protruding from his ribs.

"Yeah, but that never stopped us before." Roberto retorted and swung the pipe, with Baldur, into the ground. "Now, Kurt!"

Kurt, returned from his short flight, leapt over Baldur's impaled form and tossed down a device which latched onto the Asgardian's back as he worked on bending and tearing away the pipe. As the Huntsman landed he held up a trigger mechanism and pressed it, causing the device fixed to Baldur to glow before the Asgardian found himself being pressed down against the ground by a pressure many times that of Earth's gravity.

"Gravity Dust trap." Kurt held a hand up and received a high five from Roberto. "Always works."

"Are you carrying a utility belt somewhere?" Carlos extinguished Warhawk. "And if so, why'd you wait this long to use it?!"

"That was the only one I had." Kurt explained. "I wanted to be sure we were out of options first."

Baldur gave an infuriated snarl, straining to push himself up off of the ground.

"Oh shut up, you!" Carlos snapped at the downed Asgardian and then turned on Dracon. "Can you and the DPD contain this guy until someone can call the Justice Friends over? We're in a bit of a hurry."

"Answers first." Dracon stopped him from walking away by holding an arm in Carlos' path. "First: why is an unlisted Asgardian here? Second: why did he go and derail part of my city's train? And third: why didn't you just set him on fire like he wanted? If he's an Asgardian it'll be first degree burn for him at worst."

Carlos glared up at the gundam's optics. On any normal day he would have been glad to meet a fellow heavy hitter like the Dragon of Denver, who he actually thought highly of- given his background and accomplishments to date. Add to it that his kids were big fans who put Dracon one step above Major Glory and they'd never forgive him if he alienated their favourite Huntsman. But today he simply lacked the patience for Huntsman etiquette.

"One!" Carlos held up one finger, "I do not know."

"Two!" A second finger uncurled. "I do not _care._ "

"And _three_!" Carlos uncurled a third finger. "He's the second person this week to demand I do that and unlike the last guy, killing him would put a bull's eye on my back that you could see all the way from Asgard. Putting that aside, my semblance isn't just another case of pyrokinesis. That's all I'm inclined to tell you. Now thanks for the assist, but we really need to be going."

"Actually, Carlos." Kurt cleared his throat. "Dracon here is supposed to take us to my contact."

"Are you fu-" Carlos was cut off by a sudden explosion as the concrete around Baldur shattered and lifted up into the air, the Asgardian ascending with them as his body was enveloped in an aura which matched the colour of the Gravity Dust: a darker purple shade than Rattlesnake Jake's mutagenic variety. "Oh what now?!"

"Kurt?!" Roberto shouted.

"It's like he's harnessed the Gravity Dust's properties!" Kurt answered.

"He has." Dracon confirmed, noting how Baldur's tattoos emitted a dark purple glow now. "I think that answers my earlier question."

As much as Carlos would have been glad to correct him, there turned out to be no time for that. Baldur held out one hand and the ground before him shattered and rose up in a wave of solid debris heading straight for them.

"MOVE!" Roberto hollered, bounding away quickly.

Carlos was about to follow only for Dracon to snatch both him and Kurt up by the arm, flying them to a safe distance before dropping them atop an empty office building. From their new vantage point they could see Baldur's influence spreading outward in a circle over a hundred feet wide like a great gaping wound on Denver's streets, taking down the nearest structures before finally coming to a halt.

As the dust settled, Dracon was able to spy with his optics the figure of Baldur at the heart of the desolation. "Well that didn't work out." He glanced down at Kurt. "Anymore ideas?"

"Hey, let's see you plan against an actual god." Kurt retorted before pacing. "Okay, okay, focus. Can't kill him, can't injure him and can't pin him. Maybe we can relocate him."

"Good luck with that." Carlos said as Roberto clambered up the side of the building to where they stood. "Unless you've got the Bifrost in your pocket, our best shot is I lure him back out of the city."

" _Hunter!_ " Baldur roared in the distance. " _Come out, coward!_ "

"Case." Carlos pointed in the Asgardian's general direction. "Point."

Looking up at Dracon again, Carlos sighed. "Think you could fly me out beyond the walls without him bringing you down?"

"If that new power of his is limited by range, then I could." Dracon nodded. "But I doubt that he'll be scare to follow you into the wilds."

"Maybe, but at least out there he won't be wrecking your city." Carlos pointed out.

"No." Kurt shook his head. "Carlos, if he cant force you to use your semblance on him then he'll eventually kill you in anger. You are not throwing your life away."

"Glob, Kurt, what am I supposed to do then?" Carlos demanded as tremors spread through the area, radiating out from Baldur's location. "If he stays here he could bring half the city down!"

"And if he kills you and your clone didn't really die back in the Darklands, this entire world could be brought down!" Kurt argued.

"Clone?" Dracon interjected. "You incinerated your own clone?"

"I know it sounds weird without the full context." Roberto admitted.

" _CARLOS HUNTER!_ " Baldur howled. " _FACE ME!_ "

"What the hell do you mean 'if'?! Kurt, you saw the same thing I did!" Carlos exclaimed.

"We saw a clone of you with the power to make illusions allegedly get incinerated without a trace left of him." Kurt reasoned. "Carlos, we cannot let some dark Grimm-clone of you be the sole Wielder of the Phoenix Inferno!"

"And why not?!"

"Because he could take Sammael straight to the Spiral Soul Gem!" Kirt shouted, bringing a silence to the entire roof top with only the distant rumblings of Baldur's destructive search to fill the background,

Carlos started at Kurt, completely lost for words when a low whistle drew his attention.

"Why not shout a little louder, Malcolm? I think there are a few people in Canada who didn't quite catch that."

Seated atop some ventilation towards the middle of the roof top was a dark haired and green eye woman in her thirties. She wore black and green attire suited to the wilderness, complete with a dark green cloak and a quiver on her back holding a number of arrows and a bow. From the collar of her tunic traces of a red dragon tattoo ceiling across her fair skin was visible.

"Leslie?" Carlos whispered, unable to believe his eyes.

"We're you expecting the Easter bunny?" Leslie Vale flashed a cheeky grin. "Now pick up your jaw, lover. We've got an unbeatable god to beat and I, being the kind lady that I am, have brought exactly what you need."

Xxx

Sitting in a large pile of candy which envelopes him up to his waist, Charlemagne gave a loud, "Booooo!"

After working his way out of what used to be Mr Hooves, he clapped his hands together. "Well did that suck or did that blow? Well I guess you all have varying opinions on that, but what do I care?" He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "Also, sorry for anyone who was a fan of Mr Hooves, but he just wasn't working out. Anywho, now that the latest lap of low quality has achieved its terminus I believe that I owe you some juicy spoilers!"

He rubbed his palms together. "You know how old Specs is so worried about me being the sole wielder of the Phoenix Inferno?" He demonstrated by forming a ball of fire in on hand. "Well you see children, this is one of several veeeeery special semblances called…"

He pointed to his side where bright green letters floated, dictating his words. "Spiral Semblances! That means that a long time ago some schmuck encountered- or more accurately was damn near killed by one of the twelve Spiral Gems. You know, Grimmfall's oh so original take on the Infinity Stones? But moving on: said schmuck was somehow affected by any one of the Gems, altering him down to his very soul and making it so that the Gem's influence could be passed on, overriding the semblances of any descendants at random."

As he expositioned, the clone came across the same Grimmfall Ragnarok poster he'd desecrated several chapters ago, now with a funny moustache drawn on Kurt's face, dog ears and a bone on Roberto's and a bright pink bikini over the headless Carlos' clothes. Pausing at this, he conjured a set of markers and set to work on further vandalizing it.

"Here's what makes the Soul Gem particularly special: you've seen that it has power over life and death, but what you haven't seen yet is how it has power over your very soul." He said, drawing buck teeth on the newly added figure of Lesley as well as a speech bubble of Dracon (who flew in a rather epic pose in the background of the poster) which said 'when I grow up I wanna be in a Michael Bay film'. "Imagine it! Power to reshape the fabric of a soul to your very whim without any limits save your own imagination! You can imagine why Old Sammy would want that, and why Skinny Kratos- I mean Baldur would hope to break his ailment with it."

Finished with his art project, he dismissed the marker set. "And you can most certainly conceive of why I intend to be the one who holds it." He held up his fist and emitted a crimson glow from it". This Dominion Code Lite is handy and all- no pun intended, but I have no intention on being reliant on Sammy's good graces. So if Specs and Old Man Phil are planning to use the Klondike Caveman to find it first…"

His mouth split into a wicked grin. "Then they'd best be ready for a fight."

Xxx

End of Chapter


	10. Chapter Nine: Out of this World

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

"Good evening, ladies and gentlegerms!" Charlemagne Hunter reclined on his comfy red leather chair. "You're back with Charlie and the Chockfull of Spoilers. And this time with me is my newest sidekick, brought in to replace Mr Hooves who…" He grimaced and shook a candy wrapped out of his sleeve. "…was full of love…and thirty percent less sugar candies. But alas he was not working out, so introducing…Colonel Sanders!"

He motioned off to one side, where a matching red chair rested…occupied by a chicken wearing an army hard hat. It looked around frantically, giving a confused noise.

"Yes, indeed Colonel! We really should've take up too much of this chapter like last time. You're already earning your feed." Charlemagne snapped his fingers and conjured a bowl next to the chicken, who excitedly pecked at the contents.

"So…recap! What happened last time apart from our lovable team of idiotic miscreants getting their arses literally kicked around like a soccer ball at recess?" Charlemagne rubbed his chin. "Hmmmm oh, well they did have a guest appearance from the Fan Made Gundam and an Asgardian…from Asgard! Brought to you by Mountain of Parental Issues. Oh, and a last minute appearance from some token archer character from Grimmfall: Golden Castle. Gotta milk those references, right?"

He shrugged. "I mean really: stealing all the gold in the world. Colour me thoroughly unimpressed after the first million times that's been tried. At least he went down in style. But he's in the past! The current villain is Baldur, an Asgardian whose overprotective mommy placed a curse on him to try and circumvent the Ragnarok prophecy, which was to begin with Baldur's death and end with Asgard's destruction. How did she do this, you might ask…"

He snapped his fingers again and created a white board between him and Colonel Sanders. "Well you see, Asgardians are masters of both sorcery and cosmic science. As a result, when they invest enough time, resources and thinking into a spell they can do quite a few amazing things. But a spell which renders one unable to be killed through any means comes with a list of downsides as long as my arm!"

He had this list appear on the board.

"Firstly! As a result of this curse, Baldur lacks the ability to feel any physical stimuli, good or bad." He gasped. "He can't even taste! The poor sod. I can't blame him for going mad."

"Secondly! He can only lift this curse through one means, which his mother had to select when implementing this curse. That's a critical component of the spell, as every curse must possess a means of removing it by its very nature. In this case the solution chosen was the Mistletoe." He conjured a fake mistletoe ornament and scowled before burning it to ash. "No, not that cheap ornament you hang overhead to try and lure that girl you like into a smooch only to get a smack to the face so hard that your next incarnation feels it. I speak of the real deal! The actual Mistletoe tree, said in myth tot have been excluded when Mommy Dearest went around all the Nine Realms and politely asked anything and everything not to put a booboo on her baby boy. But in reality, she chose this because she wanted to pick something that was both easy to destroy…and wouldn't be missed after she finished systematically eradicating it from Earth's ecology."

Charlemagne paused and looked to Colonel Sanders. "Got to give it to the lady, Colonel. She may not be winning any Mother of the Year awards but she's at least an environmentalist."

"Buck-buck?" Colonel Sanders lifted their head from the bowl.

"Right you are, my friend!" Charlemagne rubbed his hands together. "So, Mommy Dearest wiped out the Mistletoe, Baldur is S.O.L and looking for every possible solution possible so that Ragnarok-not the team, can get back underway. So today we get to see Ragnarok-the team, get their collective butts handed to them on Uru metal platters. Gonna be a blast!"

With that, Charlemagne conjured a bowl of popcorn, a set of 3D glasses and a foam finger which said 'RGCK SUCKS'. "Now start the…oh…" His smile faded. "I just realized…I've reached my limit!"

"Buck?"

"Ah you weren't there for it, but I'd promised that there would be a point where I stop these pointless cameos and actually get back out into the world to do that one thing I said I'd do." Charlemagne dismissed his snack bowl and rose to his feet. "Find the Spiral Gem of Soul."

"Buck-buck."

"I will so!" Charlemagne defended. "No one is closer to finding it than me! I…just wanted to have a little fun before I get into my own adventure is all."

"Buck."

"I do too know where it is!"

"Buck-buck. Buck."

"…fair point." Charlemagne nodded. "But we are stretching this a little so let us be off!" He held up one arm which Colonel Sanders climbed up onto. "Hi-ho chicken: away!"

Both he and his poultry companion disappeared from the scene…and then popped back in a moment later.

"Er, right, sorry about that." Charlemagne added quickly. "Start the chapter. Read and review, please and thank you. See you all later!"

Xxx

 **Chapter Nine: Out of this World**

 **Denver, Outer Districts**

The sun had reached its highest point over Denver by the time Baldur's rampage had ended, though it was more accurate to say the Asgardian had simply quieted down. He suspended himself several dozen feet off of the ground, his form still wreathed in the purple aura of the gravity dust he'd been exposed to. He placed himself on what little remained of a structure, essentially the crumbling remains of two walls converging on a corner with sections of floor and the roof top still held up.

"I know you're still here, Hunter!" He shouted. "There's nowhere you can go that I can't follow. Come out now and this all ends!"

In the corner of his sight he found flashing red and blue lights marking the cordon made by Denver's police and military forces. Well outside of the zone of desolation, only several marksmen posted to roof tops and patrolling drones and aircraft had a view of the Asgardian who stood over the ruins.

"If that's how it's going to be," Baldur flexed one hand, ripping dozens of pieces of debris clear of the wrecked roads, "I'll amuse myself with these ones."

Xxx

Some distance away, Leslie Vale leapt off of the ventilation machinery and fell towards Carlos. "Look out below!"

"Leslie!" Carlos caught her by the hips and managed to set her down after spinning around once from the momentum of her leap, finding himself caught in a tight hug around his neck which, after a brief pause, he reciprocated. "Geez, Les…I'm happy to see you, but…how are you supposed to help against that? And what happened to staying on your island for good?"

"Fortunately for all of us, Sebben was looking ahead and had a plan for when you started…firing up again." Leslie extricated herself from Carlos' embrace. "So after the Golden Castle crisis he asked me to come look for you guys, but first he had me make a detour."

"I'm sorry, but…who are you exactly?" Dracon interrupted. "I'm a little out of the loop at the moment."

"This charming woman would be Leslie Vale of the Blind Archer Clan." Kurt introduced. "Back in Nevernest Academy she was attending as part of an exchange program and was a member of Team MLVT (Malevolent)."

"She was also our unofficial fifth." Roberto grinned and picked Leslie up in a bear hug. "And let me just say that it's good to have the team's big sister back on board."

"Aw you big hairy lovable lump." Leslie cooed and rubbed Roberto between his ears. "I missed you too."

Xxx

With a swing of his arm, Baldur flung the fragments of concrete and metal towards the police cordon like a catapult. Officers spotted the danger and quickly raced for cover, calling out warnings to others before several of their vehicles and barricades were hit and demolished by the barrage. Baldur repeated this a second time, causing several police marksmen on the roof tops to quickly vacate their positions or be crushed.

As he wound up for a third throw, a projectile whistled through the air towards him, audible to his sharp Asgardian hearing. He reached up and plucked it out of the air, stopping it inches from burying itself into his temple.

"What's this now?" He held the arrow up to examine before a capsule built into the shaft opened and then exploded in his grasp, demolishing the roof top and casting Baldur down into the rubble strewn street below.

As he freed himself with a single burst of gravity to displace the debris, a figure landed a short distance away.

"That," Leslie Vale nocked a second arrow, "was karma for dragging the fine men and women of the DPD into this fight."

"Oh great," Baldur groaned as he climbed to his feet, "they're multiplying."

"Well with a thousand year old man-child tearing up the streets what else did you expect?" Leslie retorted before loosing her second arrow, which Baldur batted aside so that it exploded at a safe distance from him.

"By now you can consider my patience thoroughly at its end." Baldur walked towards her. "If Hunter won't do me one little favour then maybe he'll do it for you…after I send a few pieces of you to him first."

"Better men have tried." Leslie declared.

"Oh I assure you, little archer." Baldur's tattoos began to glow blue as frost coated his arms. "There are none better."

He dashed forward, strafing back and forth as Leslie let loose several more shots, managing to tuck several arrows into the palm of her hand and flip one up into position to fire so quickly that she got off as many shots as one would with a regular hand gun in the same amount of time. Baldur closed in and reared back one fist before the armoured mass of Dracon to intersect between them, blocking the hit with his AA DF, an arm mounted shield which absorbed the physical impact even as arcane frost spread across its surface.

"You again?!" Baldur snarled.

"Me again." Dracon agreed before Roberto tackled Baldur from behind, gripping him by the roots of his hair and slamming him head first into Dracon's shield before the Asgardian twisted around to deliver an elbow strike to the Faunus' jaw that staggered him away and spun him about.

Just as quick, Kurt slid in from one side and cut Baldur across the backs of his knees, making him grunt in annoyance as his legs buckled under him and sent him to his knees. "Irksome little shits."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Leslie asked as she scrambled up onto Dracon's shoulders and used him as a spring board to leap over Baldur, planting two arrows through both of his folded legs to pin them into the ground.

The Asgardian snarled and tried to rise while Roberto and Dracon grabbed his arms and pressed down to keep him pinned. "Keep flapping your jaw, woman, and I'll rip it off!"

"Kinky, but you're not my type." Leslie looked up. "Do it!"

Carlos ash-stepped down in front of the pinned Baldur, who was slowly straining his arms to break free of Dracon and Roberto's hold. The arrows through his legs began to splinter as he forced the limbs to begin straightening, pushing himself up in spite of the Huntsmen's efforts.

"Gladly." Carlos said, holding up a weapon that certainly wasn't his signature sword.

Baldur's eyes widened in recognition. "How…how came you by that?!"

"That's for me to know." Carlos held the axe up high and fed his flames into its, watching as they coiled up the wooden handle and lit up Asgardian runes carved into the material until it reached the blade. "And for you to lament."

A thunderous rumble came from above before a great beam of light fell upon the Huntsmen and their captive. After enveloping them completely it withdrew, shooting back up through the clouds and out of sight.

In their place it left a circle of runes burnt deep into the ground, a familiar sign for any who knew of how Valhallen came to and from Earth.

Xxx

 _One week ago, Mount Blackhead_

 _Leslie had come here at the urging of Sebben. Her first instinct had been to seek out her old friends on Team RGCK, but the headmaster had insisted that this visit would be necessary, even if it seemed like an unnecessary detour at first. That said, it was a simple feat for her to make her way here on foot after a lifetime of wilderness survival training._

" _Are you the tree I'm supposed to talk to?" She asked upon entering a grove surrounding a large, ancient tree, all of which lay at the heart of a small village._

" _I am." It answered, forming facial features. "Leslie Vale of the Blind Archer Clan. And you have used up one of your three questions already."_

"… _right, my mistake." Leslie sighed. "Phil Ken Sebben sent me to you. He told me that you have something in your possession and wanted me to say…" She cleared her throat. "The Phoenix must rise."_

" _That much I am aware of." The Tree responded. "What I possess is a weapon that was entrusted to my keeping many centuries ago. For it to leave my safe keeping, it must be delivered to one of the Blood of the Hunter. I know that Sebben intends for you to deliver it to the latest scion of that bloodline."_

" _Then will you-" Leslie paused and rephrased her intended words. "I assume that means you'll let me take it then."_

" _After you ask your two remaining questions, yes."_

" _Great." Leslie sighed and brushed a hand through her hair. "…what is this weapon?"_

" _It is the brain child of Asgardian, Jotun and human thinking, the original weapon of the Hunter Clan in antiquity." The Tree answered. "In English it would translate into…Leviathan."_

" _Asgardians and Jotuns made something together? For humans?" Leslie muttered to herself. "Why did they make this weapon?"_

" _He or she who wields the Phoenix Inferno are often hunted, much like the Elementals." The Tree told her. "In the days of yore, the Asgardian God of War, Tÿr, formed a bond with one such Phoenix and sought to extend both them and their kin his aid. To that end he impressed upon his father and Laufey, a powerful Jotun, the importance of the Hunter bloodline and their mandate. They were eventually convinced and commissioned Leviathan's creation by some of the greatest dwarven smiths. They then imbued into it great magic which would only be accessible in the hands of the Phoenix, including a spell which would allow them to be carried to safety should Midgard no longer be safe for them."_

" _Sounds useful, but I don't know Carlos as the type to run from a fight unless it's to carry it somewhere else." Leslie recalled the many instances of this from her days at Nevernest Academy._

" _How he makes use of it will be up to him, but he will heed your counsel." The Tree's roots began to shift, exposing a hollow space near the base of its trunk from which protruded a wooden handled wrapped in tattered strips of cloth. "For the love that you both still hold for one another."_

" _Whoa now- hey!" Leslie blurted, looking up from the handle. "He's married and I've moved on."_

" _He is, and you have." The Tree replied with what Leslie suspected was the faintest ghost of a knowing smile. "…that does not change the truth."_

 _Shaking her head, Leslie reached down and grasped the handle, tugging the weapon free as some of its coverings fell away to expose the head of an axe adorned with asgardian runes._

" _Not having that conversation." She said. "But I'll make sure he gets this all the same."_

" _There is one last thing which I am compelled by old promises to share with you, to grant to you freely." The Tree told her before she could leave. "When you find your friends, they will be facing an enemy that cannot die, an enemy that could threaten a great many innocents. This axe in the Hunter's hands shall be their only means to remove his threat from this world."_

" _Now there's something useful to know." Leslie propped the axe across one of her shoulders. "Do I also get to know how?"_

" _When the Hunter holds Leviathan up high and bathes it in his fire," The Tree answered. "The Bifrost shall take him to the Temple of Tyr…along with any who stand with him."_

Xxx

Thousands of miles away in the Barbaric Archipelago, there lay an isle shrouded within mist and nigh inaccessible by sea thanks to the veritable labyrinth of shifting rock and ice. This island, untouched for many centuries by the hands of any outsiders, was where the Bifrost crashed dow, its journey completed.

But in the moments between now and its departure from Denver, something had gone terribly wrong.

From the perspective of the six souls ferried across the planet by the Bifrost, they were flung through a great tunnel of light broken by images of star constellations and worlds flashing past. Baldur snarled and writhed against Kurt, Roberto and Dracon as they worked to keep him contained. But the Asgardian got one leg loose, snapping the arrows Leslie had planted through the limb, and was able to kick off of Dracon's chassis. Kurt and Roberto held tight as they and their prisoner were flung into the 'wall' of the tunnel, smashing through it and vanishing into oblivion.

"KURT! ROBERTO!" Carlos called out, one hand reaching towards the breach only for it to vanish as quickly as it had appeared, left behind while he, Leslie and Dracon were forced to continue the rest of their transit.

They were dropped onto a circle of stone resembling the same one left by the Bifrost, only carved neatly into the surface as opposed to being burnt into place. Dracon, unsettled by Baldur kicking away from him, landed on his back with an annoyed grunt while Leslie and Carlos were set down on their feet. The Bifrost retreated back into the sky and winked out of view.

"No!" Carlos looked up at the starry night sky overhead. "Hey! Take us to Kurt and Roberto!" He held Leviathan up and wreathed it in fire once more, but elicited no response this time. "I said take us to my team!"

Leslie shook her head. "It doesn't work that way, Carlos." She set a hand on his arm and gently made him lower the weapon to his side. "Leviathan was enchanted to bring you here and nowhere else."

"Then how do we find them?" Carlos looked around anxiously. "They could've been dumped out anywhere!"

"I don't claim to be knowledgable of Asgardian magic." Dracon climbed to his feet and ran a self diagnostic for any damage. "But I imagine that if this axe was enchanted with your safety in mind, they would not have left anything to chance. They might have been dumped out in any of the nine realms or maybe some other world that the Bifrost can reach."

He looked over his shoulder. "But it looks like we are still on Earth."

Walking up to a ledge near the Bifrost circle, Dracon fired off several flares which cast a green glow over a valley below. Lush, green, centred by a vast lake and surrounded on all sides by mountains, it looked to be entirely untouched by civilization.

Turning, Dracon fired off one more flare which illuminated a cliff face where a structure had been carved right into the side of a mountain. The presence of statues resembling famous Asgardians, including the unmistakable figure of Valhallen, as well as the immaculate craftsmanship left no mistaking the hands that had shaped it.

"An Asgardian temple on Earth?" Leslie pulled out a flashlight and clicked it on as the flares began to fade. "I know that tree said it would take us to the Temple of Tyr, but I thought that was some poetic way of saying it would take us to Asgard."

"Why would an Asgardian war god build a temple on Earth?" Carlos wondered aloud, approaching the wide open entrance to the temple. "Wait, forget I asked. If the axe is supposed to take me somewhere safe…nowhere safer than a war god's winter home."

"But Tyr hasn't been seen in centuries." Leslie replied. "Valhallen told Sebben, Sebben told me. Tyr had a falling out with Odin sometime after the Emperor began spreading knowledge of Aura across the globe. He left Asgard without ever setting foot near the Bifrost and hasn't been heard of since."

A chuckling voice drifted out through the darkened archway. "Well, my little brother wasn't told the full story, but it's good to know that he hasn't forgotten me."

Carlos took a step back as torches flanking the entrance flared to life, followed by more dotting the temple's exterior and others on the inside. A figure was revealed in the light of the crackling flames, clad in furs and blue armour topped by a pointed helmet. On one hip hung a sheathed sword upon which he rested one hand, on his back lay a wide, round shield…and at the end of his other arm was a stump of flesh laid bare.

"Peace, Carlos: Son of Charles." The man removed his remaining hand from his weapon's handle. "You face no enemies in the House of Tyr."

Reaching up, he removed his helmet to reveal a mess of red hair and a braided beard. His weathered and fair skin was marked by old scars that had not fully faded, including what looked like a trio of claw marks across the middle of his face. Despite his appearance, the man's eyes twinkled with a warmth that made Carlos think back to the face of his father, from the few memories he still had of Charles Hunter as a child.

"The same hospitality extends to all of you: Leslie, daughter of Theresa; and Joseph, Son of Markus." Tyr of Asgard proclaimed, tucking his helmet under one arm. "That, and my aid, as from the sound of things you appear to be lacking some of your company."

Xxx

Kurt, Roberto and Baldur were flung through darkness until they all struck something solid which shattered under their combined force and weight. Then there was light, a pale grey light accompanied y a bitter chill and a wind resembling a mourning wail.

Finally Kurt landed roughly, his Aura shielding him from the worst of the landing. Roberto slammed into a pillar close by and was buried under rubble while Baldur was nowhere to be found.

Climbing to his feet, Kurt grunted in discomfort and made his way towards where Roberto was buried alive. "Hang in there." He said, seeing his breath manifest as mist before his eyes while the lenses of his glasses began to fog up. "Oh come on…"

Reaching down, Kurt began to shift individual pieces, ignoring the stinging cold that bit at his hands. Suddenly, the debris shifted and Roberto stood up, pushing his way free with a growl.

"Why does this shit always happen when we get back together?" The Faunus groaned, rolling his neck to either side. "Where are the others?"

Kurt turned around and took in their new surroundings. They were in what seemed to be one of the levels of a crumbling stone tower, and outside an infinite waste of snow and ice. Some structures of black stone were submerged partially in white and frozen over without a hint of life in sight. Dark clouds covered the sky overhead and a green mist permeated the landscape despite the relentless winds.

"…something tells me they're nowhere near here." Kurt murmured. "And if here is what I think it is, it's better that way."

"Why? Where are…" Roberto stopped at Kurt's side and gaped in shock. "…oh…"

The wailing in the winds. It was not simply the wind itself. Down below, in the green mists, the souls of the dead cried out in perpetual misery as they suffered endlessly.

"Helheim." Kurt said. "The Asgardian realm of the Dead."

Xxx

 **Denver**

Big Bob had been displeased at the results of the day's mission, to say the least. All targets escaped alive, some Asgardian entered the picture and threw a wrench into everything and now the Bifrost itself apparently had snatched them all up and beyond his reach. Zeke had gotten Josephine to a hospital to tend to her injuries, though of course with her record and participation in the raid on the Denver Bullet she would be put into police custody by the end of the day- a minor inconvenience.

"Needless to say: the midget will be miffed." Rouge said, seated off to one side of the compact safe house where the two had retreated in the aftermath of the battle.

"The midget is the least of my concerns right now." Big Bob replied, setting his tablet down after exchanging some messages with his daughters. "This goes above him now, to people whose threats actually _do_ give me pause. People who will be very interested to know why an Asgardian, a son of Odin no less, crashed the party."

"It seems like these Ragnarok boys are on the list of everybody and their grandma." Rouge mused, laying down across the old green sofa. "So what exactly should we do now?"

"Lay low until my handler gets back to us." Big Bob replied. "RGCK will come back out in the open soon. If not them, then Dracon."

"Who won't be obliged to tell us anything." Rouge pointed out.

Big Bob stared out a window across Denver, the stacks of smoke from the battle still looming across the city. "They never are."

His tablet buzzed in his pocket. Discreetly checking it, he found a single short text message.

 _Asgardian presence noted in operational reporters primary concern. Blind Archer Clan member and Dragon of Denver noted as secondary concerns. Status of Subjects Phoenix, Mimir and Fenrir?_

He typed out a single response.

 _Unknown._

A moment of pause, then a response came.

 _Permission to dispense with assignment under asset General Specific granted. Remain in position. Asset Mystic-04 mobilized and underway to render aid. New primary objective: ascertain location of subjects Phoenix, Mimir and Fenrir. Secondary objectives: obtain Asgardian relics, magical texts and technology if situation permits. Reconnaissance to ascertain extent of Asgardian involvement as well as that of any other non-terrestrial factions. Eliminate subject Dragon of Denver and subject Blind Archer if necessary. Comply?_

Big Bob replied.

 _Affirmative. Payment in advance as per standard operational procedure. Send to asset XYF. Also, find out what General Specific has on asset Bat Thief so I can secure her aid, free of charge._

He shut his tablet and looked to Rouge. "I might have a lead, if you don't mind waiting around a bit."

"Seeing as General Midget won't be handing me what I want anytime soon, I might as well find something to keep me busy." She sighed. "What've you got?"

"Just some information from friends in dark places." Bob replied. "And if you scratch their back, you might be surprised at just what they can do for you in return."

Xxx

End of Chapter


	11. Chapter Ten: Back to Business

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

"And STAY OUT!" Charlemagne slammed the door shut and then snapped his fingers, making it vanish, leaving him standing on the slope of a snowy mountain with Colonel Sanders, who was bundled in a rooster sized coat for his own protection. "Damn fourth wall cross overs. They never end well."

"Buck."

"Hey, did you not just see me kick his ass into the mirror dimension?" Charlemagne demanded. "He won't be back in the main story for over a hundred chapters thanks to that!"

"Buck."

"Oh you say that like I've never had two black eyes, a concussion, dislocated shoulder, shattered forearm and sorely abused ass." Charlemagne paused. "…that last one came out wrong. But enough of X the Eliminator and his interference, Colonel! You and I have a mission filled with tons of exposition for our viewing audience."

"Buck-buck?" Colonel Sanders climbed up onto an offered arm as Charlemagne dismissed his various wounds.

"Why so the author can cut corners on story telling, of course!" Charlemagne explained. "Why try to pace something naturally so your protagonist can encounter and learn from something when you can just shovel it into some side skit?"

"Buck."

"I said I was sorry about the fried chicken!" Charlemagne defended. "I might not get hungry but I still like to taste things, you know!"

"Buck-buck!"

"Oh relax we're here already." Charlemagne stopped before the crumbling remains of a stone gate. "Fort Hunter. The ever so originally named original home of the Hunter family."

Beyond that point, the ancestral home of Charlemagne's human ancestors had long ago begun to decline at the hands of the elements of nature. Structures had given away under building layers of snow or had suffered from wooden supports rotting and splintering from within. Animals had set their dens in these abodes time and time again to escape from the cold, some even now watched from the shadows as Charlemagne strutted in like he owned the entire fortress.

As far as he cared, he did.

"Doesn't it break your heart to watch such a historic site waste away while the world goes on, unknowing of just how vital it was to their continued survival?" Charlemagne shook his head with a 'tsk'. "But never fear, my good Colonel. For like most things worth holding onto…"

The Infinity Code's crimson aura manifested around his fist as a square section of ground in the court yard suddenly began to shift, spilling snow down into the void beyond.

"My ancestors hid the real treasures somewhere safer." With a grin, Charlemagne lowered himself down through the hole, descending at a controlled pace for almost a hundred meters before his feet touched solid rock again. "There we go, now for a little light."

He snapped his fingers, and a number of torches lining the walls of the chamber sprang to life, casting a red glow to reveal rows of stone coffins lining the interior with many more inserted into carefully dug crevices along every wall.

"The ancient warriors of Clan Hunter." Charlemagne beamed. "Heroes of yore who took on a burden for the sake of this world's survival…and never once tried to cash in on any of the benefits. Fame, wealth, power. All of it could have been theirs but they stayed quiet and discreet, fulfilling their duty without any thought of personal gain from it."

He patted Colonel Sanders' head. "Those, my dear Colonel, are real heroes."

"Buck-buck!"

"Why I'm glad you asked!" Charlemagne set the rooster down on one of the coffins and brought a torch to his waiting hand from several feet away. "It all goes back to the days of the Gem War, Colonel. Those bothersome mineral maidens and their need to dig more rocks to make more of themselves in their crazy Attack of the Clones obsession- dear lord can you imagine waking up in the morning to see people who look and sound exactly like you- wait a second…"

He snapped his fingers and conjured a script which he flipped through. "Oh ha ha, Lord Maximus. Nice try! Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on Carlos! This time he gets to be the clueless double and…" He glanced at the script again, groaning as he saw this exact conversation taking place. "Damn him. Oh bugger it all."

He dismissed the script. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Gem War. During that war, the Gems tried to get their entitled little hands on all sorts of things. The Elementals? Declared them their property. The Spiral Gems? You bet your feathery butt they tried to get those too. Oh they tried. Oh they failed. Oh they ran! Oh I need to stop saying 'oh'."

He shined the light of the touch on a nearby wall. "Seriously, the script feels like a monkey made it in some third world country printing press. But let me bring your attention to this thread of history, Colonel."

"Buck-buck?"

"Yes, the history of Clan Hunter!" Charlemagne nodded. "Which leads to my first question: did we seriously start out with that or did we pick it out a few centuries back just to sound cool?"

The wall depicted four figures gathered around twelve orbs.

"The original Elementals were guardians of the Spiral Gems, but when one of them-" Charlemagne coughed harshly into one hand. "CoughEvergreencough! Went ahead and made a wish granting crown to wish away a mean old comet-" He paused and reconjured the earlier script. "That was his plan? Really? I can't be the only one who thought that was a stupid idea."

He dismissed the script. "Spoiler alert: I'm not. The plan went about as well as you'd expect and all the Elementals were destroyed, set to be reincarnated. And around the time of the Gem War, all four were accounted for and dealing with the Diamonds. But they had an issue: the Gems had special teams hunting for the Spiral Gems."

He moved on to a section of wall depicting warriors in combat against Gem warriors, aided by Asgardians.

"And the Soul Gem was problematic, because it didn't have any convenient method of defence. It had been used for personal gain, to resurrect the dead, oooooh! Highly dangerous, especially without the Gem of Creation or a perfectly preserved body." Charlemagne conjured a sign which stated in all capital letters: FORESHADOWING. "And even worse: whenever some megalomaniac got ahold of it, it would reshape itself into a weapon fitted specially for them. That made it hell in a hand basket to track down and retrieved! So the Elementals of that era gathered together to execute an ambitious, brilliant plan!"

The third image was that of the Elementals surrounded by twelve kneeling warriors, each of whom had a single gem hovering overhead.

"They selected twelve of the most worthy fighters among their allies, and bequeathed to each of them a Spiral Gem. They and their descendants would carry a connection to that gem, ensuring that each would be protected even when the Elementals themselves were in the midst of their next rebirth. Some of those families dwindled or were killed off over time, but others…"

The fourth image held the depiction of the warrior granted the Soul Gem, wielding a blade wreathed in flames.

"Prosper even today." Charlemagne whispered. "But the Soul Gem was given an additional layer of protection, something that kept Old Sammy from simply wiping out Clan Hunter even after his Grimm chased them out of this fortress. The first Hunter was a crafty man, he foresaw the risks and demanded that the Elementals grant him and his bloodline a special bond to their patron gem."

He pointed to the centre of the figure's torso, where a single flame rested. "The key to finding the Soul Gem lays in the soul of a trueborn Hunter…because it is only through the soul of a Hunter that it may manifest in this world. No more Hunters…"

Charlemagne waved his hand and removed every trace of the carvings along the entire wall, leaving it completely blank. "No more Soul Gem. Even Old Sammy wasn't confident enough to think he could get it without them. That's how I'm going to get it…and that's how I'm going to make sure he can't ever lay one grim little finger on me."

"Buck. Buck-buck!" Colonel Sanders scampered up to his side.

"The 'how' lays on this wall over here." Charlemagne beckoned the rooster to follow him further, still erasing every carving from along the wall of the tomb once he'd committed it all to memory. "Having the blood and soul of a Hunter is the first step, but the next…lays in the Trials of the Soul. Ingenious tests intended to make sure that only the worthy would be able to summon the Gem."

As he lay his eyes upon the texts covering the trials his smile faded. "In ancient times, the Phoenix was seen as a symbol of rebirth. It dies in a blaze of fire and is reborn from its own ashes…and that Klondike addicted Neanderthal appears to have already overtaken me in the race."

"Buck?"

"Oh believe me, I know." Charlemagne groaned and knelt down to his rooster companion's height. "I hope this story doesn't devolve even further into some desperate race to the finish line. Oh but knowing our author that is our intended fate."

Picking the rooster up, he wiped out the ancient texts and left every inch of space along the walls smooth and blank. "Regardless. I have what I want and nobody else will be able to say the same. Not even-"

He spun around and aimed the torch upwards, causing its embers to shoot out as a jet of white-hot flames which struck something that had gone unseen along the ceiling of the chamber, hidden in shadows. The creature of Grimm shrieked as it lost its grasp and tumbled down, landing among the stone coffins while more inhuman howls and snarls came from the breach overhead.

"Not even you," Charlemagne dropped the torch and opened a portal below which engulfed both him and Colonel Sanders, "Sammy Boy."

Xxx

 **Chapter Ten: Back to Business**

 **Temple of Tyr, Barbaric Archipelago**

"I fondly remember the day Leviathan was forged." Tyr sighed as he looked over the axe laid before him, brushing a hand across the runes inscribed into its blade. "It took my silver tongue at its sharpest to convinced the All-Father alone. And to convince Laufey?" He laughed merrily. "Even today I don't know how I managed that!"

His laughter subsided, as did his grin as he looked upon his guests with grim countenance. "But nay, it cannot fetch your comrades from where they've been cast. The enchantment which brought you here was designed to work only once before requiring renewal by the All-Father's hands, and even if I dared to bring you before him it could not pierce the realm of the dead."

Carlos slammed a fist down on the stone table that lay between them all. "Why'd I expect it to be that simple?" He seethed. "Fine then, what other ways are there?"

"Are we sure we want to go there ourselves?" Leslie asked carefully. "It's the Realm of the Dead. Dead, Carlos. Maybe we should get Valhallen to help with this."

"No." Tyr immediately shot that idea down with a swift gesture and sharp word. "If my brother is brought into this, so too shall my father be involved. If he learns that Baldur has returned and she this sights on you…" The god of war ran a hand through his tangled mess of red curls. "My father…is a good man, but before that he is a King, and any King must choose their own people before others. And you, Carlos…represent a threat to his plans."

Dracon chose this moment to break his silence. "Isn't that an exaggeration? Granted, Team RGCK has demonstrated a destructive potential, but they've never crossed paths with Asgardians before today."

"It is not anything that has happened, but rather what might happen." Tyr elaborated, sliding Leviathan back towards Carlos. "You know that my brother seeks to break the spell placed upon him by his mother. The Phoenix Inferno, derived from the Spiral Soul Gem, represents one of the few forces in all of creation that might accomplish this to his satisfaction…and to Asgard's detriment."

"Baldur dies, Ragnarok happens." Leslie glanced at Carlos in concern. "And Asgard dies."

The idea that Asgard, which had held back the Gem Empire at its peak and fought off a Grimm horde striking at its very heart, could ever meet its end was disconcerting at best. That it could happen because of him was downright distressing.

But above all else that had been thrown at him in the last several hours…

"…how did Kurt know?" Carlos asked. "About my link to the Gem."

Dracon inclined his head as he realized that Carlos had directed the inquiry at him. "Even I didn't know until today." He admitted. "But many things make sense now."

Seeing the tense atmosphere that had fallen over the gathering, Tyr cleared his throat. "Perhaps some recuperation is in order before you go on your mission." He suggested. "Please, pick any chamber you desire for your enjoyment. Your needs will be seen to for as long as you remain guests under my roof."

Leslie's eyes wandered over to Dracon. "Don't you need to be back in Denver?"

"Contrary to popular belief, the city is well and truly capable of not exploding in my absence." Dracon shook his head. "And this…potential Asgardian apocalypse seems a little more important than anything I had going when Sebben called me in. But I'd like a way to contact my wife to let her know that I'm alright."

"Of course, Son of Markus! Come, you shall have your chance to do so shortly."

Tyr led them further into the temple until they came to rooms set aside as guest quarters, each fully furnished and supplied through means that they could only suspect to be Asgardian magic.

"If you require anything, merely clap your hands thrice." Tyr indicated the wall overlooking Carlos' bed. "Ah, but first: let me draw your attention to perhaps the most important aspect of your stay."

"What is it?" Leslie peered at the symbols carved into the rock wall. "A protective ward? A ritual?"

Tyr fell into an awkward silence. "…it's the wifi password." He said, and tapped the wall mounted stone desk where a hard-light computer interface sprang into view. "You'll need it to contact your loved ones. The link will be secure, I promise. And if anyone here is a gamer like myself, don't worry about data limits."

Further silence followed as his guests stared at him in utter befuddlement.

"You…have wifi?" Dracon asked, genuinely astounded.

"What makes you so surprised?" Tyr shrugged and showed himself out. "We Asgardians are not savages, you know." (1)

Xxx

 **Grimmfall**

Phil Ken Sebben was not unaccustomed to being out of the loop despite his unique position, but that didn't mean that he didn't detest it.

But between the ongoing Fallen issue, the more recent crisis of Crom Cruach to pick up where the rescue mission to the Gem Homeworld had left off in prematurely aging him, the insufferable arrogance of Clovis Bray and rising tension between him and the government over Team RGCK's incursion against General Specific…he really didn't need the disappearance of one of his best field teams off the face of the Earth to wrap up this day.

The last reports that held anything of substance were consistent: persons demonstrating Hunter level abilities and matching the descriptions of three wanted fugitives, alongside a fourth whose description matched that of Leslie Vale and a fifth who couldn't be anyone but the Dragon of Denver fought against an unknown assailant. That person performed feats of physical strength that outclassed all but a few beings on Earth and withstood attacks from all five enemies which would have disabled if not killed most huntsmen. He also somehow levelled a good portion of a district which had fortunately been lightly populated to begin with and ended up empty thanks to DPD's swift reaction time.

"He somehow absorbed the gravity bending properties of the restraint device." Sebben noted as he and his deputy Mayor looked over footage taken from a drone sent to observe the scene at a safe distance. "And those markings can't be anything but Asgardian."

"A man matching his description was sighted in Orchid Bay." Callie said. "He attacked several Huntsmen and then vanished before authorities could arrive. Witness testimony said he just…jumped so high that he vanished from view."

"Which matches what he did to derail the detached Bullet car." Sebben nodded. "Contact Valhallen and inform him that his brother Baldur is back in play. Present location is unknown."

"Unknown?" Callie looked up from her tablet. "But…can't you see where he went?"

"Normally, yes." Sebben brushed a finger over his eye patch. "But he's gone somewhere which has been shielded from my sight by the Gem, more for my own protection. There are some places in this universe, or attached to it, that mortal minds cannot safely view unfiltered. If the Bifrost took him to one such place, the list of possibilities narrows down considerably…and every last remaining option bodes ill."

"Then the entire team could be off world or in some pocket dimension." Callie took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "It's never easy with them."

"An unfortunately accurate assessment, and for all we know they might never come back." Sebben sighed before the screen on his desk flashed red to alert him to an incoming call over one of his encrypted lines. "Ms Briggs, engage privacy mode and double check counter surveillance routines, please."

"Done and done." Callie said, tapping a command into her tablet and causing a layer of hard-light dust shields to come down over the office's windows as well as engaging a number of less obvious security measures to ensure the following conversation went without eavesdroppers listening in.

When discretion was guaranteed, Sebben opened the channel. "Challenge Phrase: Ozark."

" _Response, Valentine._ " (2)

"Carlos!" Callie half gasped, half groaned in exasperation.

"It's good to hear from you, Mr Hunter." Phil folded his hands together. "We had thought that you were lost to us after the events in Denver."

" _You don't know how close that came to being the case._ " Carlos replied dryly. " _Ragnarok._ "

Phil raised one brow. "In what context are you invoking that phrase, Carlos?"

" _When you chose our team name, did you really know that I'd possibly cause it one day or was that just a coincidence?_ "

The headmaster or Nevernest reaches up and rubbed his brow. "A little of both. Your possession of your family's semblance made you a candidate for being involved in that grim prophecy, but it wasn't and still isn't guaranteed."

" _I have an Asgardian god of light who begs to differ, and he dragged Kurt and Roberto to a whole 'nother world over it._ " Carlos' voice rose a bit before he audibly inhaled and then exhaled slowly. " _Phil…I've got so many questions. I'm worried that if I ask now I'm gonna say something I regret and I've got a bigger issue that needs to be taken care of._ "

"Carlos, I told you a long time ago that the foundation of our partnership is in our willingness to speak to one another." Phil said calmly. "If you believe that I've withheld from or deceived you on a matter, then I would rather you say so now rather than allow these thoughts and feelings to fester."

" _My kids have it, Phil! My god damn kids-_ " Carlos shouted before stopping himself as Sebben's office became deathly silent. " _All three of them. Charlie, Ellie and Robert._ "

Callie Briggs stared at Sebben with wide eyes. "Oh no…"

"I'll make sure they're safe." Phil assured Carlos. "How long?"

" _Ellie was first, just-just three years ago."_ Carlos answered, taking painful effort to keep his voice to a near whisper now. " _Then Robert, eighteen months ago. Charlie was just six months ago. All when they turned ten. It activated their auras just like it did for me at their age, just like with my dad. I…I was showing them how to control it, to…not let it control them like it did me at Northgard. I made them promise to never show it until they got into Nevernest._ "

"While I might have wished to have known this before, I do bear a portion of the blame for this." Phil admitted. "Carlos, I never told you of the significance of your semblance, not because of any lack of faith to your character, but because I and several others who have been close to you for your entire life wished for you to never have any need to know. Past generations of the Hunter clan have not always coped with the truth of their lineage. Your own grandfather Cornelius went mad and took his own life, and attempted to do the same with your father. He did this out of the belief that the only way to end the efforts of the Fallen in obtaining the Soul Gem was to end the Hunter bloodline."

" _Did my dad know?_ "

"Towards the end of his life, yes." Phil nodded. "I saw fit to tell him after you were born. It was also by his request and your mother's that I've withheld it for as long as I have. It was understood that they meant to disclose this to you on their terms. In your clan's glory days children were taught and informed of it from the moment they manifested the Phoenix Inferno, but in that age they fielded armies and had many connections to kingdoms and states across the world. The Fallen have seen to it that they were whittled down to only a few surviving branches, with yours being the only one that I know of."

There was a tense silence through the link for several moments.

" _If I'd know…I'd never have had kids._ " Carlos whispered. " _If they hate me one day for the stuff that will come their way…I won't blame them."_

"Carlos, you are no more at fault for anything the Fallen might do than I am. I understand that having so much revealed to you has left you distressed, and I intend to help you and your family in every capacity, but right now what is most important is that you retrieve Kurt and Roberto from…Helheim, was it?" Sebben leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. "My knowledge on the divergence between fact and fiction in that area is…limited, but I understand quite clearly that it is nigh impossible to escape from there, save by some secret means that are not widely shared."

Reaching out to one side, Sebben opened a portfolio and began to forward it to Carlos. "Fortunately, Valhallen did take the liberty of leaving some kernels of knowledge in the event that one of his colleagues ended up somehow stranded in any one of the other eight realms. And as you utilized Leviathan to displace Baldur from our world I can safely assume that you are in a position to traverse the Bifrost. I'll save you the trouble of sorting through it all and simply give you the same advice he gave me for most of my inquiries: seek Mimir on Alfheim."

" _Mimir on Alfheim, got it._ " Carlos mutters, sounding like he was writing this down.

"And know this, Carlos: though I cannot presently view Kurt or Roberto through the enchantments that guard Helheim's borders, I may be able to use you and any in your company to safely 'ride' my way in and bypass whatever it is that the Gem of Sight does not wish for me to see." Sebben told him assuringly. "So you will not be alone. For as long as your time among the Nine Realms last, I will have my eyes on you."

" _Don't you mean eye?_ "

A sudden silence fell over the office before the sound of a tiger roaring split the air and Sebben's brow visibly twitched.

" _Uh…do you have a tiger in there again?"_

"Carlos." Sebben smiled coolly. "Do you remember all those team exercises at Nevernest? The ones where I personally instructed your team due to some difficulty you had getting along?"

He could almost feel Carlos' heart skip a beat. " _Oh Glob._ "

"We had you standing near an edge, on a very thin beam." Sebben recounted. "And you had to just…" He held his arms out. "Fall back into your partner's arms, trusting them to keep you from falling to a painful death. Of course the floors had mats so you wouldn't have been in too much pain. If you were lucky your partner would catch you, cradling you safely…"

" _Wait, wait a second. I admit I was out of line with the eye part-"_

"Do you know how many times the catcher would be told 'you're my hero'?" Sebben frowned. "Funny, you never said the same to me."

" _Sorry, getting off this planet now, gottaGOBYE!_ " Carlos hang up.

Callie sighed. "…well, at least he's motivated now."

"Ha-Ha…fate worse than death." Sebben chuckled.

Xxx

 **Temple of Tyr**

"Alfheim?" Leslie tucked her legs close to her chest and sat up on her bed. "The realm of elves?"

"Dark and Light Elves." Tyr corrected, leaning against one side of the bedroom's doorway.

"I'm more caught up on something worse." Leslie looked to a very pale Carlos. "Tell me you did not seriously use the E word with Phil Ken Sebben."

"I used the E word." Carlos groaned, causing everyone, sans Dracon, to flinch.

"Ooh…you're doomed now." Leslie said. "To a fate worse than anything Baldur or Sammael could inflict."

"It's so nice to be out of the loop." Dracon commented dryly.

"I'm doomed, that's the loop!" Carlos exclaimed. "When I get back, he's gonna subject me to the worst thing imaginable!"

"Would Phil Ken Sebben really do something so cruel over a three letter word?" Dracon asked.

"You don't know just what he'd do! He'd do things that would make you wish he was some evil villain you could fight." Leslie shook her head. "He would… _tell stories._ "

…

"Aaaaand?" Dracon waves one hand in a circular motion.

"You don't know just what kind of stories!" Carlos shuddered. "The fame…of Phil Ken Sebben. How some people would go crazy just for the chance to see him, to stand near him, to _breathe_ the same air as Phil Ken Sebben." He tugged at his hair. "What if it's the same one as beforeL about the time Birdman's intern tried to stick his hand down his brother's pants when he thought that he was really Phil!? I can't do that again. I don't have the mind bleach for it! And the worst part: he's going to be watching us the whole time!"

Leslie coughed awkwardly. "Uh…you don't mean-"

"No, not _that_ much, Les." Carlos sighed. "He's thorough, but he's not a peeping Tom, for Glob's sake."

He took a deep breath. "Okay, okay…we find Kurt and Roberto, we rescue them…and I get them to shoot me! Better yet: Dracon! Shoot me, shoot me right now!"

"I am not shooting you." The Dragon of Denver deadpanned.

"Why not?! Do you need motivation?! Back in the academy I could annoy anyone into trying to kill me!"

"That much, I believe." Dracon nodded. "But we have a mission right now."

"Fine, then after the mission you'll shoot me?"

"No."

"Okay, after the mission: we get back to Earth and stop Baldur, then you shoot me?"

"No."

"Okay, after the mission: we get back to Earth, stop Baldur and then get the Soul Gem into safe hands, then you shoot me?"

"No."

Carlos groaned and slammed his face into a stone desk. "Why is it that the _one_ time I want someone to kill me they won't do it?"

Leslie reached over and patted his back. "There, there, big guy."

"Leslie, will you-"

"No."

"Crap. Had to try."

"No offence intended to you…" Dracon backed away from the room's doorway. "But I'm beginning to see why your team got into so much trouble in the past."

"Well join the club." Carlos slapped the desk and stood up. "Oh wait, you can't. There's a line to the application booth. It starts here, goes outside and around the island. Twice! I'm president, Kurt was Vice-President, Roberto was our public affairs expert and Leslie was our lawyer."

"What's Melissa?" Leslie asked.

"My secretary of beauty." Carlos picked up Leviathan and slung it in a harness provided by Tyr to allow the axe to safely hang across his back. "And my sister Sarah was the head of Human Resources, as in she will personally chop me _into_ human resources if we don't get her husband back. Tyr, we need the Bifrost five minutes ago."

The Asgardian chuckled merrily. "Ah, right this way! Long has it been since I've put it to use. It gladdens my heart to see the labour of centuries bear fruit at last!"

Xxx

Pretty sure anyone can guess this reference. For anyone who can't: look up _Doctor Strange_.

Anyone who has read a particular series by E. E. Knight May recognize the reference here.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Alfheim at War

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

"Last time on Grimmfall Ragna…oh lord I need some gelato for this."

Snap! Poof!

"There we go. Where was I? Ah yes: last time on this roaming immolated construct of fecal matter, the three stooges teamed up with Thor-Lite to save Dumb and Dumber from Mordor. To accomplish this, they are travelling to Christopher Paolini's backyard to find Mr Tumnus and ask him for directions. Meanwhile, the Sports Fetishist and his beastiality baiting femme fatale are looking to join the party. My condolences to every last one of them."

Charlemagne paused to take a spoonful of his frozen treat and gave a delighted groan. "Ah, food of the actual gods…anyways if you're still reading at this point, congratulations: you are braver than I. Hopefully I can salvage those last two brain cells of yours with an actually significant plot thread: my finding the soul gem, which brings me to today's guest star."

He snapped his fingers again, causing the camera to zoom out from his position to reveal a chair to either side of him, one occupied by Colonel Sanders and the other by a red haired and portly young man in a dark coat who waved enthusiastically at the camera.

"You know him from Teen Titans- the actual Teen Titans I mean, and you've probably been ripping your hair out wondering when you'll be free of him. Ladies and Gentlemen: Control Freak!"

"Hi mom!" Control Freak grinned.

"…did you seriously just say 'hi mom'?" Charlemagne asked in astonishment. "Do you seriously think she's watching? I thought she'd have checked herself into the loony bin after what you did to your home reality." He shuddered. "Teen Titans Go…there's no amount of brain bleach in all the multiverse for that one."

"Eh, I'm over it." Control Freak shrugged. "So! You're looking for the Soul Gem, eh? Then that means you know about the three Trials of the Phoenix!"

Charlemagne held up a sign which said 'Exposition impending'. "Trials of the Phoenix? Of course I know about the Trials of the Phoenix! Anyone with their head on straight knows about the Trials of the Phoenix!" He paused for several awkward moments of silence and cleared his throat while disintegrating the sign. "Writer? Please tell everyone about the Trials of the Phoenix."

Control Freak whipped out his remote and pressed it to summon a floating television set between their chairs. "The Trials of the Phoenix are the tests which must be faced by one with the Phoenix Inferno semblance. Any who succeed in all three tests are able to summon the grand prize itself!"

"Oh riiiight, those. Man, if the author didn't take so long between updates I'd have remembered that." Charlemagne muttered bitterly. "But yes! And I so happen to have visited the ancestral Hunter seat to find the depiction of these trials. All I need now is a little help arranging a few things that will help me pass them before my progenitor bumbles his way through a black hole and gets farted back onto Earth. To that end I enlisted the aid of my couch potato compatriot to work on deciphering the long-winded texts which I painstakingly memorized. Take it away, CF!"

"Test number one!" Control Freak held up one finger while a large red number one appeared on his TV. "The Trial of Life! The one so many people just seem ill prepared for thanks to a declining education syst- oh wait, wrong one." He cleared his throat. "The Trial of Life! He who undergoes this must endure a physical rebirth, a complete and total immolation only to be reborn from the ashes!"

"Ding!" Charlemagne grinned and conjured a score board divided between himself, represented by a well drawn and muscular figure, and Carlos who was represented as a twig thin figure with stink lines around it. "That's one for Charlie!"

"Test number two, the Trial of _Death._ " Control Freak began to flutter his fingers in a spooky gesture as a large red two appeared on the screen. "Oooooooh! Boo! To fulfill this test, one must enter the land of the dead and return to the world of the living without dying."

Charlemagne's face fell. "Exactly what that Klondike Addict Neanderthal and his friends are doing…right now."

"Yes, exactly what they are…oh." Control Freak's smile fell. "Well…you've still go your lead, right? And you also have the third and final test: the Trial of Rebirth."

"Hah! I like the sound of that one, kids!" Charlemagne rubbed his hands together. "Lay it on me!"

"To fulfill this trial, you must undergo a spiritual rebirth." Control Freak rubbed his chin. "This one was given the most broad description. I mean…spiritual rebirth isn't as straight forward as the other two. I mean your local church might tell you it's about 'seeing the light' but someone else might tell you it's about overcoming some flaw, learning to forgive or undergoing a great personal change." He snickered. "Good thing Carlos is such a melodramatic wreck. I think you're pretty much guaranteed to beat him to the gem."

"Excellent!" Charlemagne shot to his feet. "Then that is what I shall do. If they want me to be reborn again then by Monty Oum himself I shall do so!" He declared. "I can already smell victory, it smells like…"

His smile fell and he sniffed the air. "It smells like…barbecue?"

"Oh, those are your other two guests." Control Freak explained, pointing off to one side into the great white void around them.

"Other guests? I never invited anyone else!" Charlemagne spun around. "Who dares intrude upon my domain!?"

"Oh, just X." Control Freak shrugged.

"X? I punted that delusional man-child into the mirror-dimension last chapter!" Charlemagne exclaimed incredulously. "One: why the hell would he ever be invited to anything? Two: who else is with him? And three: how did he get ahold of a grill in here?! That's legitimately the most confusing part of all this!"

"You don't know about X's semblance?" Control Freak asked.

"His…semblance?" Charlemagne tilted his head.

"Yeah, Triple-X. It lets him split into three copies of himself for all those cameos he has to do." Control Freak explained. "You got one stuck in the mirror dimension but the other two have been here the whole time."

"Well that's about to change! How dare they cook fried chicken in my domain!? How insensitive could they be to do so in the presence of…" Charlemagne's eyes fell on the third seat…which lay empty. "Colonel Sanders?"

"What up y'all!?" X the Eliminator proclaimed as he walked into view…carrying a freshly cooked chicken on a plate. "Thought we'd get a head-start on celebrating the end of Hail Crom. Who wants chicken?"

"Colonel Sanders?!" Charlemagne gasped, looking between the empty seat and the cooked poultry.

Somewhere, the musical score from the shower scene in Psycho was played.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Charlemagne wailed, falling to his knees.

"Uh…so this chicken wasn't for cooking then?" A second X asked, walking up in a cooking apron and chef's hat.

"…PUPPET DIMENSION FOR YOU!" Charlemagne bellowed and snapped his fingers, banishing both copies of X from his domain between dimensions and bringing the cooked chicken to his grasp. "Colonel Sanders!" He sniffled and hugged the chicken to his chest. "You were the best poultry partner a man could ask for…"

Looking up, he called over to Control Freak. "Bring me some Barbecue Sauce!"

"Uh…what?" Control Freak gaped. "Are you seriously going to eat that?"

"It's what he would want!" Charlemagne wailed. "…you want some?"

…

"Eh, I could eat." Control Freak shrugged. "You all might want to scroll down now while you still have some brain cells left."

Xxx

 **Chapter Eleven: Alfheim at War**

 **The Realm of Alfheim**

Of all the things that could have met them after the Bifrost withdrew into the skies, a pile of corpses was the furthest from what Carlos had expected.

Leslie gasped softly at the sight of luminous, fair and long eared men, women and children left in one great lumping mound together. Many of them were mutilated with weapons left where they'd been impaled through torsos or viciously chopped down through flesh and bone. Blood flowed from this mass to spread across a white and gold platform which bore the markings of the Bifrost and was surrounded by statues of notable Asgardians.

Beyond that, more bodies were strung up from the branches of surrounding trees, hung by the neck and in many cases disemboweled.

Carlos didn't protest when Leslie hid her face against his shoulder. A warrior she was, but never had she been witness to such atrocities as what had happened here…and very recently if the blood was any indicator. He himself had only seen something like this once…at Northguard.

"Light elves." Dracon stated, approaching the mass of bodies. "None of them wear armour. These aren't warriors."

"This was a slaughter." Carlos unfolded Warhawk. "Eyes up, ears sharp. Regardless of whoever did this or why, I think we've just landed in a war zone."

Xxx

They found other bodies along the path, but after some time they found more than just Light Elves.

"This must be a Dark Elf." Leslie, who had finally managed to work up the nerve to look upon the Land of Elves, knelt over a figure with pale, warped skin stretched over bony features, great dark horns that curved down from the side of the skull like a helm, eyes with dark sclera and luminous fiery irises and a set of tattered wings akin to an insect's. It, like dozens or its kin who were left dotting the road, had been peppered with multiple arrows made of an almost crystalline substance.

"And these are the warriors of the Light Elves." Dracon tenderly rolled over a luminous figure clad in armour that looked like it was made of silver and gold. "There are few of them here and many Dark Elves slain."

Carlos said what they were all thinking. "It was a final stand." He looked back up the path. "They were trying to escape through the Bifrost…but it didn't open to them."

 _They died in vain._

Leslie's hands clenched into shaking fists as she took a long, shuddering breath. "…I have a trail. One leading away from here."

She pointed off to a gap in the surrounding trees, between great winding roots which outlined the road and formations of earth and rock. "I know why we came here, Carlos…but I can't let this go unanswered. Unarmed and helpless children-"

"Les," Carlos stepped up to her side and gave her a nod. "Lead the way."

"I'll try to spot them from the air." Dracon shot into the air and cleared the tree canopy to behold a world that appeared almost entirely untouched by civilization, save for a vast arch and what appeared to be a temple at the heart of a grand lake.

Here and there could be seen stacks of smoke to mark the sites of other battles…or other slaughters akin to what they'd already encountered. From what Dracon could see it appeared as if all of Alfheim was a battlefield.

Xxx

It wasn't long before they found their quarry. First it was the droning buzz of many sets of dark elf wings, then the harsh laughter and guttural speech in what Carlos could only assume to be some dark elven dialect that would at best be distantly related to any language he knew.

The dark elves were camped by the mouth of a cave, besieging it with some hastily established fortifications and pike wielding sentries to pen in any attempts at fleeing while most of their company drank, danced and enjoyed plunder of their victims in the form of gold, weapon and armour scavenged from the dead. At least two lay dead by the mouth of the cave, impaled with the same crystalline arrows as before.

"Survivors." Leslie whispered, bow out and an arrow nocked. "I count about thirty dark elves down there."

"Sounds like such an unfair fight." Carlos faced Leslie and made a motion as if he was allowing her to go ahead of him in a line. "How about we make things even and you take them?"

"Hardy-har-har." Leslie lightly jabbed one end of her bow into his side. "Dracon, are you hearing this?"

" _And seeing it._ " Dracon replied. " _I have eyes on the enemy camp. No sign of any other dark elves within the vicinity, but along the way here I picked up some admirers._ "

"Are they giving you trouble?" Carlos asked.

Xxx

Far overhead, Dracon spun and veered to one side to avoid blasts of fiery magic from a trio of pursuing dark elves. Turning over, he engaged his 60mm Vulcan Gun and watched as one of the winged warriors was peppered with bullets which, for the most part, bounced off of his chitinous armour.

"They're unusually resilient." He admitted before folding the gun back up and swapping to his Armed Armour Dracon Fang to block another barrage of energy bolts. "But they shouldn't be too hard for you."

Engaging his Dracon Funnels, he watched as they erupted from the Dracon Fang's front and flew towards the dark elves, who realized too late the danger they were in before the energy beams began to cut through their armour like a knife through butter.

Xxx

"Just don't play with them for long. We're on the clock." Carlos closed the channel and gave Leslie a nod. "I go in and blitz them, you hit them from up top and take out any that get into the air?"

"It's like you know me so well." The archer offered him a wink as she moved off to one side and began scaling the nearest tree. "Careful, or your wife will get suspicious."

Carlos winced at the mention of Melissa. She had reacted to his fugitive status and news of an off world mission better than he'd hoped.

 _That woman is far too good for me._ He mused. _Well, Hunter, do your best to get back to her intact enough to make it up to her._

Carlos sauntered down towards the dark elf camp with a casual strut in his step, hands in his jacket pockets as he whistled a tune. Only after he'd passed the actual perimeter was he noticed, leading to expressions of puzzlement and confused whispers being exchanged among the dark elves as they took in the sight of someone who clearly wasn't of this world just strolling into their makeshift siege camp.

He was stopped almost at the very heart of the enclosure by a dark elf whose more decorative armour (decorated with more pronounced spikes and spines that is) indicated them to be of superior rank, perhaps an officer among his kind. They levelled a spear at him and issued a demand in their guttural language.

"Huh?" Carlos tilted his head to one side. "…oh." He snapped his fingers and held up one finger, prompting an incredulous look from the dark elf officer who nonetheless obliged his unspoken request as Carlos reached into his pocket. "Hold on…there."

He held up a small slab of Asgardian steel with an inscription carved into it. "Let's see…uh…by the All Father's will, let there stand no borders between us." The inscriptions glowed brightly and then quickly faded.

Carlos looked at the dark elf officer. "Okay, try again?"

"What are you doing here?" The officer demanded, moving his spear closer to Carlos' throat. "You are not of Alfheim and the Bifrost has not opened for years. How came you to our world and from where? Vanaheim? Asgard?"

"Aank!" Carlos mimicked a buzzer, drawing further looks of befuddlement at his behaviour. "Wrong and wrong. You have one guess left, my friend."

From behind him, one of the dark elf soldiers tapped their spear against the flat of Leviathan where it hung on his back. "Dwarven steel! With Asgardian runes!" They hissed.

"An Asgardian!"

"Cursed Aesir!"

The dark elf officer's eyes flared with unbridled hatred-then again that wasn't exactly anything new to Carlos by this point in his life. "So the All-Father has seen fit to send one of his own to our midst."

"Aaaand that's strike three." Carlos shook his head with a disappointed sigh. "And you repeated your second answer. That's just embarrassing. Do they not have quizzes on Alfheim? I just said I'm not from Asgard, holding an Asgardian weapon doesn't automatically make me one."

"But it does make you foolish to wield it here," The officer smirked. "And me fortuitous. I could always use a new blade like that. So I offer you this: surrender your weapon and leave by the count of three and you might live."

"Generous." Carlos commented, looking considerate of the offer.

The officer drew back his spear arm, poised to stab into Carlos' torso with a single thrust. "One-"

"Two-three!" Warhawk unfolded as Carlos swung it out, the blazing edge cutting into the dark elf at the left hip and exiting at their right shoulder.

The dark elf stumbled back a step before toppling over. His men broke out of their shocked stupor and lunged towards Carlos, converging on him from all sides before he ash stepped out of their midst and reformed at a safe distance near the sentries closer to the cave entrance.

"Sorry boys!" Carlos cut down one sentry as he reformed, then grabbed an extended spear by the haft as it was jabbed towards his throat. "But I'm in a hurry."

The spearman took an arrow through the opening in their helmet, leaving the weapon in Carlos' grasp as Leslie effortlessly picked off the other two sentries. Carlos spun the spear around and stabbed it through the next dark elf to get near him, then kicked them off of the weapon and swung it around to jab the other end into a warrior's throat, crumpling their airway and leaving them to collapsed as they struggled for another breath.

A shadow fell over Carlos, cast by another dark elf who leapt into the air with his spear poised to stab downwards. Leslie planted an arrow in them before they got anywhere close and leapt down to join Carlos, rolling to her feet to loose another shot. For several moments they fought back to back, with Carlos sticking close to Leslie to keep the dark elves from getting close enough to attack her while she thinned their ranks from a distance.

Occasionally one closed in and Leslie would pivot and step behind Carlos with a flourish while he dispatched the assailant, giving her room to resume picking off the quickly dwindling number of warriors. Others attempted to shoot them from a distance with projectiles of magical fire, but Carlos found Warhawk quite useful at intercepting these. When several attempted to take cover behind trees or rocks they were quick to learn that Leslie was more than proficient enough to rebound her arrows off of other surfaces to catch them in the back.

Finally, there was only one dark elf remaining, looking at the bodies of his comrades scattered across the clearing. Dropping his spear, he turned and began to take to the air, but barely got a few feet off the ground before another of his kind plummeted through the tree branches above and landed on him, knocking him to the ground and out cold.

Dracon entered view at that point, slowly descending to the ground. "Having trouble?" He asked as he disengaged his thrusters.

"Was just waiting for you to finish your nature walk." Carlos extinguished Warhawk. "Les, pick up your arrows. I'll go see if those survivors are amenable to not turning me into a porcupine."

"Perhaps I should go first." Dracon suggested, motioning to his fully armoured body. "I'm a little less vulnerable than you are."

"If these were normal arrows I'd agree, but check these out." Carlos walked over to one of the bodies close to the cave mouth and plucked one of the crystalline arrows out to show Dracon. "These arrows are magically shaped from solid crystal, which I'm betting is also enchanted to have more piercing power. I'd rather not have to explain myself to _two_ wives when I get home, so let's count on not getting hit at all until we know just how dangerous the local armaments are."

"By all means then." Dracon motioned to the cave mouth.

"Nice knowing you, Hunter." Leslie waved.

"Loving the confidence, guys." Carlos sighed and stepped up to the mouth of the cave, keeping his hands up. "Hello? The dark elves are gone now. Safe to come out. Absolutely no need to- yipe!" He ducked to one side as something sang past his left ear, almost nicking it. "-do that!"

"Go away!" A girl, one in her teens from the sound of it, called from within. "Haven't you done enough harm?!"

Even on another world, Carlos cringed at that sentence. "We aren't dark elves! We're from Midgard!"

Another arrow narrowly missed him.

"We won't fall for your lies! Get away from us!"

"Do I look anything like a dark elf?!" Carlos demanded, stepping closer to the cave. "Open your eyes for a second and-"

A third arrow struck him in the shoulder. Carlos spun halfway and dropped to one knee, hissing in pain as he felt the crystal arrowhead pierce all the way through, scraping across bone before it and the shaft passed through entirely and pierced a nearby tree.

"ENOUGH!" Carlos bellowed, wreathing himself in embers as he shot back to his feet and then ash stepping into the cave.

Leslie gasped and raced towards the cave entrance. "Carlos!"

"Would he harm them?" Dracon asked.

"Not usually, but if he's mad I don't want to guess-" Leslie slid to a stop as Carlos stepped into view…with two squirming figures slung over his shoulders, little hands and feet beating against him as he carried them out and set them down while keeping hold of one wrist with each hand.

They were elves, the first living ones seen since the team had arrived. The older appeared to be on the verge of adulthood, maybe mid-late teens and wore the same armour seen on the bodies of slain elven warriors, only it appeared slightly too big for her. The younger girl appeared to be equivalent to a human or Faunus at ten years in physical terms. Both had luminous skin and white silken hair, facial features which were easily fairer than that of the dark elves which would allow them to appear human and icy blue eyes with narrow pupils.

"No! Let go!" One of the elves, the older of the two, cried as she slammed her fist into Carlos' chest while the younger one simply tried to rip herself away from his grasp.

"Look at me!" Carlos forced them both to look up. "I'm. Not. A. Dark elf!" He told them firmly before lowering his voice and softening his tone. "And I'm not going to hurt you."

After he released their wrists the younger girl clung to her counterpart's side, sounding on the verge of tears. The older girl held her protectively and looked around at the massacred camp and the only three living souls in sight.

"You…really aren't dark elves." She whispered. "But…the Bifrost would not open. It has not opened for centuries…how can this be?"

"It worked fine for us." Carlos shrugged and then slumped his shoulders slightly as he took a step back from the pair. "We…saw what happened. I'm sorry that we couldn't be here sooner."

"We came from Earth." Leslie said. "Or…what you call Midgard. We were sent by Tyr of Asgard to find Mimir."

"But Tyr said nothing of there being a war here." Dracon added, keeping a greater distance when he saw how the two young elves looked upon him with fear. "Or that the Bifrost here was inaccessible."

That would pose a problem if it was inaccessible to them as well, but one bridge at a time…

"Tyr? Valiant Tyr sent you?" The older girl asked. "Tyr's family is not welcome on Alfheim, but…Tyr has been good to us before. We had thought him dead after the All-Father cut us off from the other realms."

"Odin blocked the Bifrost?" Carlos felt a chill shoot up his spine. "Why would he do that?"

"I do not know, but it is what our mama told us." The older elf insisted. "The Raven God of Asgard is said to appear benevolent, but takes what he wants and does as he wishes."

The younger girl sniffled. "Mama…"

"Is there anywhere safe that we can take you?" Leslie asked gently. "Anywhere your people might be hiding?"

"…Tyr's Temple on the Lake of Light." The older girl answered. "Many fled there, but the dark elves were closing in…not all of us could make it after they blocked the roads."

"Well that won't be a problem for us." Carlos stepped back into the cave and returned with two bows made of what looked like many winding tree roots slenderly formed into a curved shape. "Here. As long as you don't shoot me again, I don't have a problem with you keeping them on hand."

"I hit you?" The older elf gasped and raced over. "My arrow was poisoned!"

Carlos held up a hand to stop her. "Easy, poison isn't exactly an issue for me." He handed her bow back and removed his jacket before showing her the tear in his shirt where her arrow had pierced, revealing only a light scar. "See? I burnt it all out of me before it could do anything."

"That's…not possible." She brushed a finger across the scar. "That was eitr drawn from the fangs of the largest serpent in Alfheim and refined for a thousand years. You should have dropped dead by now, unless..."

She returned to the younger girl and handed the smaller bow to her. "We must get to Tyr's Temple. The elders, any who still live, they will wish to hear of this."

"Gladly." Carlos pulled his jacket back on. "But before we go: names. I'm Carlos Hunter."

"Joseph Mathews." Dracon greeted them with a nod. "Most call me Dracon."

"Leslie Vale." Leslie held her bow up for the elves to see. "Glad to meet fellow archers."

The older elf stopped on her way to the path returning to the road. "…Kara." She said at last, holding onto her sister's hand tightly. "And this is my sister, Carita. Now come on, we have to hurry before more show up, and there will almost certainly be more closer to the lake, and if there are enough in one place the great serpent may be with them."

"Great serpent?" Leslie followed close with Carlos and Dracon remaining a short distance behind. "I only ask because we've heard a few things associated with the Nine Realms that could hold that title. Which one would this be…?"

Kara looked at her in puzzlement. "Surely you must know of him even on Midgard." She reasoned. "He is Nidhoggr, the great serpent risen from the roots of Ygdrassil itself to wage war upon Asgard."

Xxx

 **Earth, Denver**

When they said they were sending a Mystic Asset his way, Big Bob hadn't been prepared for the sight of a green chihuahua mobian who barely reached his knee.

Needless to say, his initial reaction to Shirley the Fortune Teller being Mystic Asset 04 had not endeared him to her. Not that he had anything against Mobians compared to anyone else, but…he had endured the company of one who'd irked him for days now.

Two was pushing it.

"I see…a far off realm, a world almost untouched." Shirley held her hands out over a crystal ball. "Alfheim…the land of the elves, one of the nine realms."

"Get to how we get there." Big Bob motioned impatiently.

Shirley stared dully at him before turning to Rouge. "The stupid one here, he needs to find where they crossed over from. The rest of the Nine Realms are shielded against any who seek to travel there, Alfheim especially so."

"Why is it more shielded than the rest?" Rouge asked.

"A great power has been placed across the realm, choking points through space and time that would be used to access it through more…conventional means." The mobian's accented voice dipped slightly. "I can pinpoint where this site is, but if it is not on our world then you will have no chance of accessing it. Asgardian sorcery is far beyond what most are capable of amassing."

"Point us to it." Big Bob demanded, not reacting to the blatant insult he'd been paid moments ago. "We'll handle the rest from there."

Xxx

End of Chapter


	13. Chapter Twelve: Trials of Yggdrasil P1

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

"Last time on Grimmfall Ragnarok- urp!" Charlemagne stifled a belch and cleaned his lower face with a napkin as he and Control Freak lounged on a couch together…with a plate carrying what remained of Colonel Sanders between them. "Pardon me, I…have been celebrating the life and death of a good and loyal officer who was…" He sniffed and picked up a bottle of blue vodka. "Taken from us too soon."

"To Colonel Sanders!" Control Freak raised his own bottle, his mouth entirely stained blue on the inside. "The best poultry partner you could ever have for dinner."

"Yes, the best!" Charlemagne agreed. "Sure, he insulted me regularly, teased me, even pecked at my crotch once or twice. I don't know if he thought there was a worm down there or something."

"Dude, gross." Control Freak commented before taking a swig.

"But he was…he was…extra crispy! And covered in BBQ sauce." Charlemagne tapped his bottle to Control Freak's before taking a heavy swing.

"Charlie, you've got the heart of a poet." Control Freak wiped his eyes.

"Yes, I…I…what am I supposed to say when I like something you say?"

"I…do?"

"No, no, this is the start of a new chapter, not a wedding! I haven't even proposed yet." Charlemagne stumbled to his feet. "I…wait a second." He grinned. "Eureka! I have just the thing to cheer us up!"

"I'm cheered and I don't even know what we're talking about." Control Freak shrugged before holding up his free hand. "Uh…how much of this stuff have we had? I think I'm colour blind now."

"Ok Control Freak, you're drunk." Charlemagne reached over. "Gimme that- OOF!" He toppled over. "…hi floor. Why is it so…white and bottomless?"

"I dunno." Control Freak shrugged, still staring at his hand. "Ask it to make you a sandwich."

"Hey floor, make me a…Huh?" Charlemagne reached under the couch and pulled out a cassette which read 'PLAY ME'. "Ooh, movie time!" He snapped his fingers and conjured a television so he could insert the cassette.

After a moment of static, Charlemagne appeared on the screen. " _I bring you greetings from the past! Hey there, Future-Me. If you're seeing this then you're so drunk that you can't even do the opening right. Not that I blame you, of course, but the show must go on!_ "

"Yaaaaay…" Control Freak rolled off of the couch.

" _So to cap it all off: the Idiot Brigade are on the march down the hole to Wonderland, Lord Idiot says something stupid, Lady Idiot says something stupid, Sir Idiot gets in on the fun and they fight a bunch of jerks. They find a couple of fairy kids who promise to lead them to their hippy circle where they can all get stoned together. It was the BEST day ever. There: we're all caught up. Now I'm going to sit down, turn this off and laugh at the world. Good luck with the show: you wasted, honking idiot."_

The video ended.

"I like that guy." Charlemagne chuckled. "Hey Control Freak, think we can get his number? He looks like a real party animal!"

Control Freak groaned and put a hand on his stomach. "Oh boy…you all…might want to scroll down now. This is about to get messy!" He gagged and put a hand over his mouth as his cheeks bulged.

"No-no-no not on the sandwich-floor!"

Xxx

 **Chapter Twelve: Trials of Yggdrasil, Part 1**

 **The Realm of Alfheim, Lake of Light**

"Strike them down!" A dark elf held their staff up overhead. "For the glory of Nidhoggr, slayer of go- ugh!"

Dracon holstered his beam pistol as the dark elf plummeted off to the side of the path where he was joined by several more riddled with arrows or bearing scorched blade wounds. After checking the sky he ushered Kara and Carita along. "I take it dark elves have no concept of a surprise attack."

"They never made any progress in invading our lands before Nidhoggr came to their aid." Kara moved with barely a sound in her step, almost gliding across the ground to perch atop one object or another without ever unsettling the loose dirt and twigs underfoot. "And even with his war beasts they have not taken Tyr's Temple."

A whistle from ahead signalled that the way was clear. When Dracon and his two charges stepped through the next set of bushes they found themselves at the shore of the Lake of Light…which had been piled with the bodies of light elves who had failed to make the voyage across the glimmering waters and sprinkled with dark elves who had paid a heavy price for this latest atrocity. Many wrecks of boats dotted the beach, some of them sunken into the shallows or left to drift on the currents.

Carlos and Leslie were waiting for them, leaving a few more dead dark elves in their wake.

"It looks like we'll have to fly across." Carlos informed them. "Dracon, how many can you carry?"

"Easily all four of you." The Dragon of Denver began to unfurl his wings and charge up his boosters before Carita darted towards the water. "Carita!"

"Let her work." Kara held up an arm to stop Leslie from following. "You have seen some of the dark elves wield magic, yes? Carita can be considered their counterpart, and it is only by a light mage's will that we may cross these waters."

Carita stepped in until the water lapped around her knees. Cupping her hands to her chest, the elf slowly inhaled, raised her hands over her mouth and breathed out a shimmer aura-like effect which seeped down onto the Lake of Light, forming glyphs which flowed in lines which converged to form a spiral which glowed bright and rotated, slowly at first but then building speed until it became a solid disc.

From this emerged a longship akin to those used by the Vikings of old, with a sail made of a white translucent material which seemed to glimmer like the lake beneath it.

The longship stopped short of Carita and extended a single plank from its prow. The girl turned and beckoned for them to follow before she ascended to board the ship.

"Well…that works too." Carlos shrugged and followed after, wading out into the shallows and climbing aboard with Kara and Leslie while Dracon simply flew over and landed on the deck before the ship started moving. "Dare I even ask or should we just assume that magic is doing this?"

"Where have you been the last…" Leslie checked her watch. "Two hours? Everything runs off magic in this realm."

"And here I am still wondering what the actual difference is between magic and aura." Carlos leaned against one side of the ship and stared down at the water, which appeared reflective so close up. "My theory: one has consistent rules, the other is total bull sh…" He paused as he remembered the presence of two potentially under age elves. "…sugar."

"What is this…bull sugar?" Kara asked.

Leslie snickered and stepped away. "Smooth move, Candy Man."

 _Crap._

"Back where we come from- Midgard I mean, it is…" Carlos racked his mind for a way out. "A way of saying that something is…utter nonsense."

"It sure is utter nonsense." Dracon muttered, shaking his head in disapproval as the elven girl mulled over this.

"I see…then one might say that the dark elves' decision to war on us is also the 'bull sugar'." Kara experimented. "Yes?"

Carlos groaned in despair at the idea of this catching on and reaching any elven parents. "Sure, yeah. Bull sugar."

Once Kara returned to the prow with Carita, Leslie inched back over to Carlos with a nefarious grin. "You are so-" she paused, glanced towards the sisters and used one hand to form a circle with her thumb and index finger, then poked her opposite index finger through the circle.

"Leslie, why do I put up with you again?"

"Your wife is my best friend. Why haven't I ever put an arrow in your head for being a doofus?"

"Because she wouldn't forgive you?"

"Eh, I think she'd be more angry that I killed you first. Remember your wedding day?"

"When she gave me my suicide ring." Carlos held up the hand in question and removed his glove to show said ring.

"…suicide ring?" Dracon chose this moment to rejoined the conversation. "How does that work?"

"If I ever take it off, she kills me. Doesn't matter where I am in the universe or for what reason." Carlos put his glove back on.

"…your family is weird." Dracon stated.

Carlos slumped and murmured. "You have no idea."

The ship approached the island at the heart of the lake, passing through the shadow of the great arch looming overhead. As it got nearer figures near the shore moved to higher ground and many arrows were pointed towards where the boat touched down.

"Halt!" A man-elf called out. "Name yourselves! If you've carried dark elves t this hallowed ground you'll regret it!"

"Don't shoot!" Kara replied. "I am Kara of the Crystal Grove, here with my sister Carita and…" She looked to the trio of non-elves on board. "…friends sent by Tyr of Asgard!"

The elves lowered their weapons and stared warily as the longship extended its boarding ramp to allow its passengers to disembark. Kara and Carita went first, followed next by Leslie who kept her hood down, Carlos and finally Dracon- whose appearance had a particular effect on the elves. Thankfully nobody was scared enough to take a shot at him.

"How can this be true?" One of them demanded. "The Bifrost has not opened for centuries by the will of the hated Raven God."

"And it allowed us in by the will of the…hopefully not quite as hated Tyr." Carlos replied. "He sent us here from Midgard to find Mimir for guidance."

"Tyr resides on Midgard?" The elven sentry who spoke before looked puzzled by this. "Then…his plan worked?"

"You will need to be more specific on what his plan is." Dracon pointed out. "All that we know is that there are two living men who were flung into the realm of Helheim while using the Bifrost and Mimir is the only one we can go to for help in saving them."

The elves by this point had begun to disperse, several taking up watch positions over the sandy shore while others made their way inland towards Tyr's Temple: which was built out of a hill where solid portions of white tone with golden ornaments jutted out through solid rock. Several stacks of smoke rose from behind a perimeter wall, which was watched by more light elves, surrounding the base of the hill.

"The way to Mimir lays in the hands of the dark ones." The elven sentry who had remained to speak told them. "And even if it were not, the decision would be up to the elders…those who remain."

Carita urgently pulled away from her sister's grasp. "Perhaps mama and papa are here!" She exclaimed.

"Carita!" Kara called after her. "I need to go with her."

"Go." The sentry told her. "I will show them to the elders. If they are truly friends of Tyr, then an audience is at least warranted."

Kara nodded. "I will see you all inside. Best of luck and thank you again!" She raced after Carita toward the temple's entrance.

Xxx

Before the dark elves had invaded, there had been over a hundred tribes of light elves within the regions around the Lake of Light alone, each led by an Elder and several hundred strong apiece. Less than a tenth of those tribes had more survivors than what could be counted on two hands, with those closest to the lake having had ample warning to more successful evacuate while others were cut off and slaughtered like those who had fled in desperation to the Bifrost. For the ret of Alfheim, too little was known to say for sure how their kin from abroad fared against this onslaught.

Only three Elders had successfully made the journey to Tyr's Temple and had taken up a makeshift court within a long room with vaulted ceiling which resembled a longship flipped over to form a roof.

All three elders wore matching silver robes complete with hoods and face shawls which hid all but the area around their eyes. From the Crystal Grove Tribe came Elder Vitri, the youngest of the three and a powerful sage who had managed to guide at least some of his people to safety despite being one of the more distant tribes. Representing the Greywood Tribe was Elder Vana, the only she-elf among the living Elders and the most militant among them judging by the presence of a spear by her side along with a bow and full quiver. And finally there was Elder Gor of the Whitestone Tribe, the eldest of the three a evidenced by his apparent physical frailty, which not even his garments could conceal.

They sat at a table at the head of the hall while dozens more elves gathered around to bear witness.

"Revered elders, these three who stand before you are travellers from Midgard." The sentry who had et them on the beach, named Einar Frodeson, introduced the team. "Two young ones from the Crystal Grove tribe speak of their heroic rescue from a band of dark elves who had slaughtered those fleeing to the Bifrost. They claim to have been sent by Tyr of Asgard in search of wisdom from Mimir."

Elder Vana visibility squinted as she looked over the trio. "How came you from Midgard?" She made no attempt at reiterating the present status of the only viable means of travel between realms.

"Tyr has another temple on Midgard which allows him access to the Bifrost." Leslie answered. "We were brought to him for sanctuary after being attacked by an Asgardian named Baldur."

The mention of Baldur's name caused many elves to grimace and turn away, muttering bitterly.

"So…you know him too." Carlos ventured a guess.

"The mad son of the Raven God is known to us, as is Tyr's plans for what you described." Elder Vitri confirmed. "My thanks to you for saving my kin. Your deed alone should be all the proof we need that Tyr has not forgotten us."

"He made no mention of Alfheim being consumed by war." Dracon said. "We can't speak for whether he knew or not. During our travel to his Midgard Temple, Baldur attacked us and caused two of our comrades to plummet into Helheim. He told us that Mimir would know how to get them out of there."

"That would be the truth." Elder Gor rasped, speaking slowly with a deep voice that spoke of a powerful man defeated only by the ravages of time. "Mimir does reside on Alfheim, and would know of what you seek. But our dark cousins…they have besieged us here and the path to him is blocked."

"We can fight through them." Carlos stated. "And after what we've seen them do to your people, I'll gladly take them on. Mimir might even be able to help end this war if he's as big of a negotiator as the stories say."

The elders momentarily debated after this.

"Your proposal has…merit." Elder Vitri conceded. "However, we must ask you to submit yourselves to a small…test."

Carlos exchanged looks with his team mates before Dracon spoke. "What kind of test do you mean?"

"Mimir's time is not to be casually wasted, or in his words-" Elder Gor put on a heavy accent which…sounded strangely scottish. "I will not speak to a doofus, so dunnae send me a doofus!"

…

"Oooookay…" Leslie raised one brow. "Sounds like he's got your number, Carlos."

"Second year, January 28th in girls' swim class-"

"Shhhhh!" Leslie covered his mouth. "We'll take the trials, just stop Carlos from talking."

"Yes, please do." Dracon added dryly, not wanting to hear anymore of the escapades that went on in Nevernest.

"The trials were put in place to ensure that only persons of a certain…character would be trusted with Mimir's location." Elder Vana elaborated. "They were specifically designed in a way that the Raven God and any of his minions would fail, and as the trials are the only way for one to obtain Mimir's location his safety is guaranteed."

"They require you to face your own inner demons and not defeat them…but come to terms with them." Elder Vitri clapped his hands thrice, summoning from a back chamber a procession of robe clad elves carrying between them a pot filled with a bubbling concoction. "Mimir himself crafted the enchantments over this potion to act as the catalyst for the trials. Drink from this, and your journey shall begin."

"You just had that stuff pre-prepared?" Dracon asked.

Elder Vana sighed and brought one hand up to nurse an apparent headache. "You wouldn't believe how many of our young seek Mimir out. Suddenly they turn five-hundred and suddenly think they're all grown up and ready to take on the world! In any case it pays to keep a large supply on hand."

Carlos' brows shot up. "Wait, if five hundred is really young for you…how old were those kids we saved?"

"Young Kara has only just reached the age of majority while Carita is but at a tender age of one-hundred and fifty." Elder Vitri answered pleasantly. "They grow up so fast, don't they?"

"Eh…yeah." Leslie agreed halfheartedly as the attendants handed bowls to her and Carlos.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to partake." Dracon said. "I'm not exactly able to…ingest things like I used to."

"Ah, I see." Elder Gor nodded. "Worry not, there is an alternative for those who cannot drink from Mimir's Tonic."

"Then why do we have to drink this stuff?" Carlos asked, grimacing at the acrid odour as his bowl was filled. "Sign me up for option B."

Elder Vana rose to her feet, raised one hand and pointed at Carlos…

"Wiiiiiimp!" She cried out.

"Nerrrrd!"

One elf stood up from among the hecklers and began to flap her arms and mimic a chicken. "Buck-buck-buck-buuuuck!"

The entire hall was now filled with light elves who moments ago had been composed and serene in their disposition…and now were making him think back to a drinking party back in his last year at Nevernest. Even the younger, child-looking elves were joining in on mocking Carlos.

"Oh great," he sighed in exasperation, "so frat parties exist out here too."

Raising one hand, he bellowed. "Alright! Alright! I'll drink it! Sheesh." He brought the bowl to his lips and poured the contents, which tasted as bad as they smelled, down his throat.

A chorus of shocked cries and laughter rang throughout the hall.

"He drank the whole bowl!"

"Ohhh by Tyr's beard hairs!"

"Get a record seal! Someone get a record seal!"

Carlos wasn't sure if it was what he'd just drank, but he was already feeling nauseous. "What? What's wrong?"

"You drank the whole bowl!" Elder Gor cackled, clapping his hands together. "That was meant to be passed around to half the room."

 _Ohhhhh shit._

"Fair warning, son of Midgard," Elder Vitri snickered. "You're going to freak out and…more than likely defecate yourself to death."

Leslie took a quick sip from her bowl and passed it along. "Sorry, Carlos."

"Nice knowing you." Dracon added.

"Mother fu…" Carlos' speech slurred and he fell into oblivion…

And as his vision returned to him, his mouth opened and he cried out. "Kurt! Come back!"

Xxx

 **The Realm of Helheim**

There was no geography in Helheim.

Well, there were some consistent locations, but even those seemed to change location at random. To date, Kurt had marked thee significant areas which kept popping up no matter which direction he and Roberto took or how far they travelled.

The first was a great bridge which crossed over a dark smog, a stone arch held up by nothing which vanished into a great curtain of mist. Here, many spectral figures moved in a seemingly endless march, disappearing into the haze while more would trickle in from anywhere else to cross. They paid no heed to the two living men in their midst, passing through them without incident.

The second was a river, the only water in this perpetually frigid world which wasn't frozen solid. There were ruins of structures jutting out of the waters, but neither Huntsman dared to take a drink from the churning, foaming rapids which eventually returned to where ever they had begun to follow it from. Sometimes they would see signs of a boat moving out on the river, but never attempted to call out or reach it.

The third was what lay where ever the bridge from earlier ended: a dark, dead city with a spire towering over the rest of Helheim. Here, a great eagle perched atop the spire and flapped its wings, generating the endless winds which brought eternal frost to this realm.

Anything else was indistinguishable from the next stretch of cracked pathway coated in black ice and meter long icicles.

"This. Place. Is. Bullshit!" Roberto shouted for the tenth time as they reached the bridge yet again. "So is this bridge, so was that river and so is that stupid bird!" He pointed towards it. "Ohhhh you're gonna make the biggest set of chicken breasts in the world if I get hold of you."

The eagle, if it could hear him, gave no indication and continued as usual.

"How long have we even been here?" Roberto demanded, kicking one icicle at its base and sending the shards over the adjacent ledge.

"About…" Kurt checked his tablet. "…forty minutes."

"WHAT?!" Roberto spun around. "You're kidding me! It feels like hours!"

"Something tells me that is a desired effect by this place." Kurt pocketed the tablet. "Look at those souls: there can't still be that many worshippers of the Asgardians alive today. They're going across over and over again, always trying to reach that city but never making it. And this world keeps herding us back to here or to the river. In the end, they have nowhere to go but across the bridge…and even then they aren't freed. This is the Norse realm of the dead, and not the kind who get into Valhalla. It's a place of eternal suffering."

"Well we aren't dead, so somebody had better let us out of here!" Roberto raged. "This is why I hate magic!"

"We'll be dead if we stay here for too long." Kurt warned, rubbing his hands against his arms. "The only reason this cold hasn't already started setting in is because I've been using my Semblance to keep the air around us warmer."

"Okay, what _can't_ that semblance do?" Roberto rubbed his hands along his biceps to fend off the encroaching chill. "I thought you just did stuff with vibrations."

"For one: open an inter dimensional gateway to get us home." Kurt pointed out.

"Well let me know when you figure that out." Roberto deadpanned.

"I figure out how to work out that ulcer you had last year, didn't I?"

"You- Wait, I had an ulcer? How?"

"Yeah, I found a frequency to repair tissues, including removing ulcers." Kurt explained. "I even found one to help enhance digestion process to get more nutrients out of our meals…but given your diet, that's still not a whole lot."

"Eh, bite me." Roberto grumbled.

"No thanks, I know what you eat." Kurt stepped towards the bridge. "The only idea I have to get anywhere that isn't in circles is going across this bridge."

"You mean the one that you just said has the souls of the dead going in a big circle?" Roberto demanded.

"We aren't dead." Kurt pointed out. "It's a risk, but…we can't hold out hope for the others getting to us in time to save us, especially if time is inverted against us."

Roberto groaned. "Aw fine, let's take the Bridge of Death, shall we?"

They came to where the bridge began, flooded by a sea of immaterial wraiths eternally making a crossing they would never finish. Kurt took a breath, stretched out with one leg…

And found himself surrounded by fire, smoke and the screams of the dying.

Behind him, Carlos screamed. "Kurt! Come back!"

A shiver shot up his spine as Kurt remembered this day. "Oh no…"

 _Northguard._

Xxx

"Blergh…leave me alone." Charlemagne groaned, draped across the top of his couch while Control Freak was outright unconscious in a pile of his own stomach contents. "Just read the stupid file and let me use the eternity until the author manages to post the next chapter to get over this god awful headache."

 _File Accessed_

 _Name: Kurt Malcolm_

 _Codename: The Ingenious Huntsman  
_

 _Weapon: The Tuning Blade. Regularly shaped as a rapier, the Tuning Blade has a far more complex interior design which possesses the ability to process vibrations, amplifying the effects of Kurt's semblance._

 _Semblance: Frequency Field. Kurt is able to utilize sounds coded with frequencies manipulated by his Aura to achieve any number of feats, from soothing headaches or accelerating cellular regeneration to enhancing the function of bodily systems or even genetic traits. Some examples of what Kurt is capable of achieving are removing his need for prescription eyewear, enhancing both his and others' ability to absorb and regain information and induce a state of superhuman physicality. The exact limits are not yet explored, but in the words of all three of his teammates from the defunct Team RGCK: 'His powers are bull sugar!'_

 _Family (confirmed to still be alive and identified): Sarah Hunter-Malcolm, wife. Carlos Hunter, brother-in-law. Robert Hunter, nephew. Charles Hunter, nephew. Elisa 'Ellie' Hunter, niece._

 _Background: REDACTED AT KURT MALCOLM'S REQUEST. (Aka: he threatened to share our browser history if we didn't redact it)_


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Trials of Yggdrasil P2

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

"Ugh…when did I have carrots?" Charlemagne mumbled as he willed the remaining evidence of his and Control Freak's booze fuelled shenanigans out of the pocket universe he called home. "Welcome back. No Control Freak this time, I'm afraid. He had to get back to work, and so do I."

Creating a cushioned chair for himself as he fell backwards, he sank into its embrace with a sigh. "Three trials. One down, two left and it looks like my progenitor might soon fulfill one ahead of me. So that leaves me with only one recourse: to beat him to Helheim. I've sat idle and mourned over the good Colonel long enough."

Sitting up, he rubbed at his jawline and removed a layer of growing stubble. "I need to get back into the game, really make a show of force and remind the readers that I am here for far more than to inject some badly needed quality into this piss-poor excuse of a magnum opus!" He declared. "But how will I do it? How…"

Struck by a sudden burst of inspiration, Charlemagne babbled and looked around quickly before snapping his fingers and conjuring a tablet. "Don't know how I keep losing this thing." He muttered as he rewinded a video of events from Chapter 11. "Right near the end…there!"

" _A great power has been placed across the realm, choking points through space and time that would be used to access it through more…conventional means." Shirley's accented voice dipped slightly. "I can pinpoint where this site is, but if it is not on our world then you will have no chance of accessing it. Asgardian sorcery is far beyond what most are capable of amassing."_

 _"Point us to it." Big Bob demanded, not reacting to the blatant insult he'd been paid moments ago. "We'll handle the rest from there."_

Charlemagne grinned. "Hello, carpool lane!"

Snapping his fingers again, he changed his attire to that of a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, sandals and a base ball cap while a cumbersome briefcase appeared with the label 'HELHEIM OR BUST' slapped onto every conceivable inch of surface besides the zipper.

"This is the dashing and insidiously intelligent Charlemagne Hunter: signing off!" He bid farewell and opened a portal. "Roll the chapter!"

Xxx

 **Chapter Thirteen: Trials of Yggdrasil, Part 2**

 **Infernal**

 _Don't do it!_

 _Kurt, come back! Don't leave!_

 _You did this…_

Carlos opened his eyes after plummeting for what felt like an eternity. He was on solid ground for now, surrounded by vast green plains dotted with some…peculiar geographical markers and overshadowed by clouds taking all kinds of cartoonish and outlandish shapes.

"Am I dead?" He felt around himself.

"You're not dead, moron."

"Huh?" Carlos looked around.

"And that isn't the question you should be asking, moron."

Carlos groaned. "Please tell me that isn't my evil clone."

"Hah! You wish!" Upon a moving mass of cloud, a lookalike or Carlos seated in a comfy chair floated down, accompanied by another cloud carrying what looked like a flat screen TV. "He'd rather be watching pay per view wrestling than getting involved with your dumb little spirit quest."

Picking up a remote, the lookalike changed the channel to show a rotund blonde man deliver an uppercut to the tentacle covered face of a green skinned alien. " _-and Coop hits him with a left! And a right! Oh I didn't know Glorft could bend that way-_ "

"Whoops! Spoilers." The lookalike changed the channel. "I'm crazy enough to be part of your stupid subconscious, but spoiling the main story? Noooo thank you!"

"…are you sure you're not just my clone?" Carlos groaned. "You sound just like him."

"Fortunately not, I am just an aspect of your mind constructed within the celestial plane, which has shaped a portion of itself to form a facsimile of what you would consider your subconscious mind." The lookalike stood up. "And let me tell you, it's a disgraceful mess in here. But enough about your mental health, let's talk about your mental health!"

"Great, so you're my spirit animal." Carlos rolled his eyes and turned around. "What am I even doing here?"

"Why you're here to clean up your act!" His doppelgänger moved to his side and clapped his hands onto Carlos' arms. "You need to be worthy of seeing Mimir, and to be worthy you need to do something that he would never accuse the All-Father or any lackey he'd trust to seek out Mimir to be capable of: man up and admit it when you're wrong."

"Wrong about what?" Carlos asked. "I've made my share of bad choices but I never tried to deny they happened or why."

"Denial." The doppelgänger held one hand up and waved it across the landscape, where the word 'DENIAL' grew out of the ground and formed from clouds in the sky. "Denial everywhere. That's where I come in, my deluded chum. I force to the surface that which you don't want to confront, bring to light those dark corners of your mind that you'd sooner forget and make you stare into the abyss until it blinks."

Slowly inching away from the doppelgänger, Carlos regarded him warily. "Are you seriously a part of me? What aspect of me do you represent in the case?"

The doppelgänger's smile never left his face as he turned his head towards Carlos. "The best of you…the worst of you…" He shrugged. "To be less poetic: I'm you, minus the bull…sugar, was it? Yes, that's it! I'm you, minus the bull sugar you feed yourself every waking second. And you're only leaving this place one of two ways: successfully…or fatally."

He rubbed his hands together. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Xxx

 **Ingenious**

 _Don't leave!_

 _You need to, Kurt._

 _This is a fixation!_

"Well, you're certainly new to town."

Kurt gasped and crumpled to all fours, his limbs struggling to keep him steady. He felt a familiar carpet fabric against his hands and looked up to see the inside of his own home, the living room specifically.

Ahead of him, a puddle of black liquid rippled as lone droplets splashed down into it. Slowly, a pair of bare, slender feet coated in the oily substance and set themselves flat. Kurt tilted his head up to see a form clad in black and green armour, dented and misshapen by past battles and covered with tattered and burnt cloth of similar colour. It was worn by a woman with fair skin and long black hair, grey eyes surrounded by black smudges and an empty smile which made Kurt feel like she was analyzing him the same way a scientist might examine bacteria through a microscope.

"I don't see many men here, not living ones anyways." Balanced on the balls of her feet, the woman delicately took steps towards him, leaving black footprints in her wake. "Even if they somehow fall into Helheim they never last long, yet you appear to have endured far past where all others fell."

"Yeah, I've had a problem with rules for a long time." Kurt managed to lean on a table. "I'd introduce myself…but if you are who I think you are, then you already know."

She grinned playfully. "What gave me away?"

"Well, I'm in Helheim, so that narrowed the list down…Lady Hela."

Xxx

 **Infernal**

"You seem unusually confident that you have a clean record."

The doppelgänger followed Carlos through the endless expanse of the celestial plane, propped up in his comfy chair on a floating cloud once more.

"I didn't say that." Carlos shook his head, looking for anything to indicate he was making progress to…anywhere. "Everybody has a skeleton in their closet, I just don't know what you want me to fess up to."

"It's not something wrong that you did to someone else, my dear simpleton." The doppelgänger leered down at him from on high. "But something you have done to yourself. Murder, theft, vandalism and genocide are sins against Glob…but a lie is a sin against your own soul. It sinks its teeth in and follows you for the rest of your life until you vanquish it with the truth. Of course, little white lies can be forgiven, but it's the big ones that are fuelled by resentment and regret that must be dealt with. And there's only one real big spot on your record that's keeping you from talking to Mimir."

"Congratulations to all of you. I was watching closely to observe your skills and teamwork."

The fields were gone. Carlos was standing inside an auditorium, on a stage with hundreds of faces staring at him…no, past him, to where the next generation of Huntsmen to enroll at Nevernest Academy were assembled. Four of them stood before Headmaster Sebben, beaming with pride as they were given their official team name and thus marked their first day as a real team.

"Even though some of you have only met, I could swear that you have been long time friends and allies. What matters is that every single team here is unique in its own way because of the skills and personalities that you bring to it." The Headmaster paused as he came to the quartet. "And some…are more unique than others."

Holding up his tablet, Phil turned on an overhanging screen. "Beginning with the team which…besides burning down most of the test area-"

Carlos' younger self snickered.

"Triggering a miniature earth quake-"

Gregor grinned and exchanged a high five with Roberto.

"Inducing a stampede of wild dogs-"

Roberto shrugged innocently.

"And vibrated his aura to the point of turning into a literal walking oven…contributing to said fire." Phil drawled. "They were also the first to complete the test…in record time I might add. Roberto Lupine, Gregor Brobdith, Carlos Hunter and Kurt Malcolm. The four of you shall form Team RGCK under the leadership of Roberto Lupine."

"Hot diggity!" Young Carlos slapped Roberto on the back. "Way to go, Wolfman!"

Gregor laughed heartily and lifted Roberto up in a one armed hug. "Can think of no other more suited to it." He said.

"Congrats, Rob." Kurt said with a nod and a smile.

The scene fell still. Carlos felt his heart wrench at what had been the happiest moment of his youth.

"Such a happy little group of trouble makers." His doppelgänger sighed. "Now one is dead and gone, and the rest of you just drifted apart. But one of them is your brother in law, yet it took him being hunted for you to actually talk to him again outside of when you're expected to. Why?"

"Why?" Carlos' temper flared. "He didn't care enough to come calling either."

"Oh, so focused on what he did to you." The doppelgänger groaned melodramatically. "Woe is Carlos. Poor, poor him."

"Hey, don't you try guilting me!" Carlos pointed. "You want to know why I only just tolerate Kurt? Why it takes us being in a fight with something a lot worse to distract me from that?"

He gripped his doppelgänger by the shirt collar and bellowed. "Because he and I both good as killed Gregor, but when the ashes settled in Northguard…Kurt. Wasn't. There."

Xxx

 **Ingenious**

"It's rude to pry, you know." Kurt said as he watched this same scene.

"It's also rude to trespass." Hela countered, lounged in one of the empty chairs. "You can't blame me for being curious about the first living Midgardians to walk in my realm. Your team was given a very…particular name."

"That isn't lost on me." Kurt crossed his arms as the room faded away to be replaced by the mists of Hel. "So, you wouldn't happen to have a way out of here for anyone who isn't dead, would you?"

"Let me think:" Hela tapped a finger to her chin. "Would the goddess of death have an obvious escape route out of a place designed to contain the souls of the dead?"

"You've been visited before." Kurt said. "By Odin, for instance."

Hela's eyes narrowed and glowed a venomous green. "…never mention that one eye fraud in my presence. Ever."

Kurt held his hands up placatingly. "I get it: you have beef, but it has nothing to do with me or my team. Right now I'm more concerned about one of the Asgardians on Earth, specifically one who isn't supposed to be there. You might know him: youngest son of…he who must not be named, rather resilient against anything but mistletoe."

"Baldur. Daddy's favourite child." Hela sneered.

"I thought that was Thor." Kurt raised one brow beneath his glasses.

"And yet your people remember Baldur as 'the most beloved' of the Aesir."

"Ah, true." Kurt nodded. "I guess every parent has their favourite child...and every child has their favourite parent. He has Baldur…and you had Loki."

"For what little time we had before I was sentenced to rule here for eternity." Hela nodded. "And now I am told my father is either dead or corrupted in some form beyond my reach…you can imagine how that might displease me."

"Actually, I can." Kurt nodded. "My parents were taken away from me when I was barely old enough to remember them."

"Yes, yes, and now you're on an unending quest to find their murderers." Hela sighed. "A tale as old as time."

"So needless to say we have one thing in common-" Kurt began.

"Which is why I know not to trust you, Kurt Malcolm." Hela smirked.

"Smart not to." Kurt nodded. "Not even my team mates are silly enough to trust me."

"Weren't they once?" She asked pointedly. "Years ago?"

"Feel free to poke around in my head if you'd like. Not like I can stop you." Kurt shrugged. "But if you do that, I'd at least like a hint of how to get out of here."

"Awfully demanding for someone with no power to back him up." Hela wagged a finger at him.

"I'm not demanding." Kurt clarified. "…it would just be the polite thing to do. I can't see your grandfather being so accomodating either."

The smile dissolved off of her face. "…well played." She sighed. "Very well. Let's see…"

For a moment silence fell between them, and then Hela slowly chuckled. "Oh…oh…" She shook her head. "Oh dear…such guilt! Such regret…you mourn." She inhaled and tilted her head back. "Ah…they really were foolish. Almost as much as you."

"You aren't saying anything that I haven't heard or said to myself before." Kurt replied sharply. "Now…are you satisfied?"

"Never, but as you said before: it is the polite thing to do." Hela said. "There is a way out of Helheim…a way which grandfather used once. And only once. He hasn't visited me since because a little birdy…" She looked up as the mists cleared to show the same colossal bird Kurt had spotted before leering down at them. "…told him that I laid a trap in it, something to ensure that if the All-Father returned for another pleasant visit neither he or any of his sycophants would never be able to leave."

"Thus dooming them to freeze and die here." Kurt nodded as the mist shrouded the eagle from view once more. "Oddly specific: neither the All Father or anyone supporting him could ever leave through it…yet it sounds like you left some wiggle room."

"Anyone can leave through it. He just couldn't because it would require something entirely beyond him." Hela grinned. "Beyond what most, mortal or otherwise are capable of."

She leaned in close and whispered a cold breeze into his ear. "…admitting when they are wrong. And unless you can come to that point, my dear…then you're right where you belong and simply haven't admitted it yet."

Xxx

 **Infernal**

"Ah, good old Northguard. Population-at least at this point in the flashback: about ten thousand and five-hundred some." The doppelgänger inhaled deeply. "Ah, feel that memory of nice, brisk Canadian air."

Carlos looked at his now empty hands and then at the burning city around him. "Oh hell no. Don't you-" He turned to see that he was alone in the burning street.

" _What's wrong, Mr Hunter? Unpleasant memories? Six-hundred and forty-two unpleasant memories to be exact?_ " The doppelgängers voice remained, disembodied and coming from all directions at once. " _Let's take a look, shall we? What was it that brought you here in the first place?_ "

"You know damn well it was Kurt who arranged this op!" Carlos snapped, trying to block out the wailing of a child from nearby. "We followed him in like we'd done for two years, and before that every year at Nevernest."

" _Ah yes! Another of his- what did you call them? Conspiracy hunts? A lead on a hidden research facility conducting illegal and unethical experiments upon Faunus and Mobians, if our memory is accurate. And you found it, didn't you?_ "

"We did." Carlos shuddered as the child's cries were cut off with a sickening crack of bone. "…and then this happened."

A colossal figure emerged, stepping through the embers without a care or any sign of even feeling the heat licking at their legs. Carlos recognized the familiar slope of the broad shoulders , the thick dark beard and…those eyes…those empty, soulless eyes.

"GREGOR!"

The giant slowly turned, coming face to face with Carlos as he had been ten years ago: bloodied, bruised and parting the fires around him so that he could take one unsteady step after another towards his team mate. He stopped five feet away and looked up, his chest rising and falling with heavy, shuddering breaths while his mouth struggled to form words. He hadn't known what to say in the face of such decimation, but in a short time he'd settled for just saying anything.

"Why?"

Gregor didn't respond, staring at him with a scowl carved from cold stone.

"Why?!" Carlos had demanded. "Gregor, why did you do this?! All these people- the children! For Glob's sake, why?!"

Gregor's head tilted to one side in a moment of what could be confused for childish curiosity. Then his arm darted out and grabbed for Carlos' head, easily big enough to envelope his skull and strong enough to crack it like an egg. Carlos never let him get close, leaning to one side and then strafing past Gregor, leaving a deep cut along his side. The giant grunted and looked down at the wound, from which flowed back blood.

"Don't make me do this!" Carlos had shouted. "Gregor, I'm not going to let you hurt anyone else, but don't make me hurt you!"

The thing that had once been the jovial, happy giant known as Gregor Brobdith gave no heed to these words. Crouching down, he launched himself through the air, aiming to land atop Carlos who ash-stepped out of the way and repeated this game of cat and mouse between delivering more hits with Warhawk. Once in a while Gregor got a hit in and Carlos' aura would flash dangerously, but the Infernal Huntsman's strangely of death by a thousand cuts eventually began to wear the larger fighter down.

After what had felt like hours but had really been a few short, terrifying minutes for him, Gregor collapsed to his knees and bled from over thirty cuts and stab wounds delivered at carefully chosen areas. Carlos still kept out of reach, but when he saw his friend fall limp and silent he lowered his guard.

"Roberto!" He'd tried to use his tablet. "Roberto, we need medivac to my location. I have Gregor down but he's h- URK!"

He'd stepped too close and Gregor wrapped both around his throat and head where he began to squeeze. Carlos screamed and struggled, igniting his Phoenix Inferno more out of reflex than anything else, mending the damage that Gregor did as quickly as it was made. Carlos tried to dislodge himself by cutting at Roberto's arms, but the giant appeared unmoved by any pain he could cause. The same couldn't be said for the Infernal Huntsman, who finally unleashed his semblance in a blind fury, engulfing himself, Gregor…and everything within a quarter mile, living or not.

It was a great ball of fire that lit up the night sky, visible from over a hundred miles away and even from orbit. Anyone unfortunate enough to look at it while too close suffered having their eyes seared to the point of blindness. Many who had been beyond the quarter-mile point were still immolated on the spot, entire streets caught fire and vehicles melted and exploded.

Xxx

 **Ingenious**

Kurt surveyed the aftermath of that same fight, every detail just as he'd remembered it. The ashes, the silence…and the signs of green slowly but visibly sprouting up from the ground everywhere that had been scorched clean by Carlos. Before long there had been new life sprouting up at the site of the battle, atop the ruins and in every space where it could find sufficient biomass to spring from.

All of it centred on Carlos. He was watching his friend from the same spot as ten years ago: just at the edge of the newly grown garden of life born from freshly sewn destruction.

"Oh no…" He'd whispered. "Oh dear Glob, no."

It wasn't supposed to be anything like this. It had just been another lead, another trail that was close to going cold. And now Gregor was…and Carlos-

A chime from his tablet temporarily snapped him out of it, and he'd picked up. "Sebben!"

" _I saw._ " Sebben had said grimly. " _Kurt…I'm sorry._ "

"I need to get Carlos out of here." Kurt was already planning six steps ahead. "Sebben, I need that safe house online and secure transport-"

" _Kurt._ "

"If we hurry we can get ahead of this before someone tries to pin it all on him-"

" _Kurt!_ "

Kurt clamped his mouth shut. "Sir?"

" _You aren't done yet. I'm sorry, what I ask will be difficult but it must be done…and Carlos and Roberto must not know about it. I wouldn't ask this of you if I wasn't completely certain that anything to the contrary would almost certainly lead to even greater calamity than what you have witnessed._ "

Xxx

 **Infernal**

"So then he just…ran off." The Doppelgänger gave a 'tsk' as he shook his head, now by Carlos' side again.

"He didn't just run off." Carlos closed his eyes to the sight of himself, kneeling broken among the flowers. "I found out later where he went…after a transport from that lab. They'd lost their lab and materials in the chaos. It put them back a decade at least, but the mind behind it was set to fly off…and Kurt went after them first."

"Then came your internment, the protective custody, the months of being labelled a monster until Sebben was able to put together a case which proved you and Roberto weren't to blame." The doppelgänger nodded. "But that wasn't enough, was it?"

"Gregor Brobdith was my friend. He was the jolly giant, the big teddy bear who would never hurt a fly. I saw him volunteer to play Santa at the mall every Christmas. I helped him get over Patty Jenkins cheating on him. We all stood by him when he finally stood up against that supervisor who would always treat him like shit when he worked as a boat cleaner." Carlos' eyes grew hot as he recalled those days. "…and when Kurt's crusade ended with him being turned into some monster…into being _remembered_ as a monster, all Kurt did was keep chasing his precious ghosts!"

Xxx

 **Ingenious**

"Carlos always was slow to forget a slight, real or not." Kurt rubbed his eyes as the garden dissolved away. "But…I couldn't blame him for thinking that."

"Of course you couldn't." Hela snaked an arm around his shoulders. "What else could he think…when you only ever used your so called friends for your crusade?"

The events of several years shot by before his eyes. Less than a month into their first year he'd roped the team into helping him sneak into one place or another: the school archives, a Satyra safehouse, once even a hidden nest of Grimm that had somehow gotten under Grimmfall with the guidance of some lesser Fallen- the whole operation had been too sloppy to have Sammael's blessing. No matter where or what it was, trouble followed them and escalated until Team RGCK soon acquired a reputation for it.

Because he'd kept poking the hornet's nest.

Because he'd kept dragging his team mates…his friends…into his business; every time he used them as distractions, decoys, proxies and pawns.

And the thing about Chess was that pawns always fall first.

Xxx

 **Infernal**

"But that isn't the summation of your relationship, oh no." The doppelgänger denied. "You see, Carlos, you're perpetually in a state of being known as…what was it again?" He snapped his fingers. "Oh right: self-pity!"

"Here we go." Carlos closed his eyes and breathed in while counting to ten in his head.

"You fixate only upon the details which are relevant to your suffering or that of those closest to you, and seek to demonize Mr Malcolm with a painfully tailored narrative." The doppelgänger shrugged. "But who am I to blame someone with the emotional maturity of Justin Beaver?"

"Aaaand ten." Carlos exhaled. "Alright, if what you say is true and you already know everything: why bother asking anything when you could just show me?"

"I can only show you so much, Carlos, and I can't _understand_ it for you as well." The doppelgänger groaned, rubbing his face. "Glob, if stupidity was a super power we'd be Major Glory. Let's start where every shitshow starts: that first meeting."

Then Carlos fell in a ditch. "Son of a-"

Standing at the top of the newly manifested shallow ravine, the doppelgänger put his hands on his hips. "And three…two…one."

"Someone get in my WAY-"

CRASH!

The same younger version of Carlos from the original vision shot down like a comet and crashed into the exact same spot occupied by the current version. The impact itself didn't caused further harm as the two passed through one another, but the older version was still flung back up to the top of the ditch as a result.

"Ugh…now it's coming back to me." Carlos groaned, laying on his back where the inclination to roll over and die made itself known now just as it had half a life time ago.

"Hey, are you alright down there?"

The Young-Carlos opened is eyes to see a hand being offered. After working up the strength he grasped it and was pulled out of the crater he'd made.

"Yikes, rough landing." Young-Kurt said, adjusting a set of tinted goggles as he observed the Carlos-shaped indent. "The old man really should'a given us more of a heads up."

"Ow…thanks." Young-Carlos rubbed his head. "Eh, to be fair: my big mouth got me into a lot worse trouble before."

"That makes way too much sense." Young-Kurt nodded. "Anywho, he said the first person we make eye contact with is our partner so…"

"Well technically it's not eye contact yet with those things." Carlos tapped the goggles. "What are they for anyways?"

"My eyes are super sensitive." Young-Kurt defended.

"They still look weird. Might want to try some sunglasses." Young-Carlos began to climb out of the ditch. "C'mon, we don't want to be last."

"We don't lose anything if we're last." Young-Kurt clambered after him.

"Yeah, but the big hairy guy sassed me, and I'll be damned if I'm second fiddle to him now!"

Carlos watched the two teens climb out and dust themselves off. Reliving this

"Oh, wait, almost forgot." Young-Carlos stopped and turned mid-step. "Name's Carlos. Carlos Hunter."

"Huh, unusually convenient surname, but cool." Young-Kurt nodded and shook an offered hand. "Kurt Malcolm."

Young-Carlos looked at the hand like it was about to turn into a snake and bite him, but then cautiously grasped it.

Xxx

 **Ingenious**

"And you were so glad that you had the loud mouthed powerhouse for a partner."

In a vision of the same exact event, only seen from the opposite ledge of the ravine, Hela held Kurt's shoulders. "For who else made a better patsy?"

"That's not true." Kurt denied and shrugged her hands off.

"Isn't it?" She challenged. "You didn't go to Nevernest to become a Huntsman."

"But I didn't pick Carlos." Kurt argued. "Did I ask him for help a lot after that? Yes. But I also helped him out a lot when he got into stupid situations."

Kurt's plans hadn't been the sole cause of Team RGCK's reputation. Carlos, Roberto and even Gregor had their own issues and agendas which had ended up drawing the whole team in.

Fights with members of some crime syndicate Carlos used to run with in England.

Dealing with Roberto's Satyra-aligned uncle trying to pressure him into joining the cause.

Even Gregor being targeted by bullies for his soft hearted, jolly giant disposition had somehow found a way to blow up.

And on the side they still found newer, more creative ways to get involved with mayhem where it reared its head. But along the way not one of them had ever complained, hesitated or backed out…until after Northguard.

In the aftermath, when Kurt finally saw Carlos again, things had been tense but not out of control. It was the slightest mention of Kurt going to chase down a lead which had suddenly caused Carlos to explode.

It was the last thing he'd said before walking out that had struck hardest.

' _We aren't children anymore Kurt, and this isn't some game to play on the side! Gregor's dead and you're carrying on like you don't care! Hell, I don't think you ever cared. So the next time you want help with your ghost hunt…call Sebben, because I'm done._ '

After that it took Kurt and Sarah's marriage to get him into the same room as Kurt. Carlos hadn't been hostile or aggressive, but he hadn't smiled the way he used to or laughed even once. After that their relationship had become…episodic.

Work would take them away for weeks or months, they'd occasionally cross paths out there or back home and talk, reminisce on old times, make some new memories…

But Kurt knew that things had never been the same after that night, and while Carlos' attitude had occasionally thinned his patience…he still had some share of the blame for things devolving the way they had.

"You wanted me to admit something? Truly admit it? Sincerely?" Kurt demanded. "Fine, here's what this stroll down memory lane managed to make me realize: I should have told Carlos why, instead I let him walk around for ten years with Gregor's blood on his hands and not one word to explain why it happened. Sebben gave me every reason not to…but he's supposed to be my oldest friend and he deserved better than that."

Hela's smile vanished. "…oh." She sighed in disappointment. "And what will you do with this revelation if you live to see Carlos again?"

Xxx

 **Infernal**

After the trials, after meeting Roberto and Gregor and being declared a team, after they'd finally had time to settle, Carlos had found Kurt sitting alone in their new dorm's rec room. The blinds were drawn, making the only light whatever managed to drift in through the door's window.

Choosing to invite himself in, Carlos lightly kicked the door open. "Hey Mal, what're you doin' cooped up alone in here?"

Kurt jumped in his chair a bit. "Geez! Ever heard of knocking?" He covered his eyes and added hastily. "Don't hit the lights!"

Carlos' hand stopped near the switch. "Oh, right. Sensitive eyes." He nodded. "Sorry."

He closed the door behind him. "So what're you up to?"

Able to open his eyes safely again, Kurt turned back to the table and held up his goggles for Carlos to see. "My goggles got cracked during that last stretch of the entry test. Probably when Roberto thought up that plan where Gregor used you and me as baseballs."

"Ah yeah, good times." Carlos grinned and reached into his jacket pocket. "I might have something that'll work better."

"Don't know how that's possible. I need these to filter out different light levels at all times-" Kurt stopped as Carlos set an open glasses-case on the table, revealing a set of pristine sunglasses. "Sunglasses? These'll break in five minutes of combat."

"Not true." Carlos sat across from him. "My mom was in MI6's Huntsman Division back when she was around. These are Tac-Glasses. They'll do a better job than those goggles and they won't crack under pressure as easily."

"No way." Kurt held them up and cautiously set them over his eyes before Carlos pulled the shades, flooding the room with light. "Hey!"

"You see?" Carlos asked with a grin as Kurt looked around.

"Actually, yeah…they do!" Kurt pulled out his tablet and used the camera to get a look at himself on the screen. "They look better also. The goggles did look a little weird."

Reaching into a lunch bag he'd set by his side, Kurt pulled out something in a wrapper and offered it to him. "Thanks man. Want a Klondike bar?"

"What's that?" Carlos accepted the offering and looked it over. "Huh, icecream sandwich. Don't know why they'd call this a bar if-" He stopped after taking one bite. "…Kurt, my man, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Watching all of this unfold before the scene dissolved, Carlos felt his eyes burning.

"Nothing to say?" His tormentor asked with a smirk. "No justifications? Defences? Arguments? Raging? Oh come on just let it out, I'm sure you'd like nothing more than to punch your way out of this dream by now-"

"I was wrong." Carlos whispered.

The doppelgänger froze and looked up from his newly remade chair. "What?"

"I said…I was wrong." Carlos wiped one hand across his eyes. "Kurt…he ain't perfect. Glob knows he's too much of a smart ass sometimes, and I still say he's fixated…but I let one bad day wipe out all the good times we'd had and treated him like he was a walking bomb from that point on."

"Now this…" The doppelgänger uncrossed his legs and stood up. "Is a surprise. If you survive the next few seconds…what will you do when you see him next?"

Xxx

 **Ingenious**

"What I should have done years ago." Kurt resolved.

Xxx

 **Infernal**

"I'll walk up to him, man up, and say what needs to be said." Carlos could feel the dreamscape crumbling around him.

Xxx

 **Ingenious**

"Because he's my friend."

Xxx

 **Infernal**

"Because he was family even before he married my sister." Carlos shut his eyes as darkness swept in from all directions.

Xxx

 **Ingenious**

"And because he deserves to know the truth, no matter what might follow." Kurt said as the mist around him was lifted, leaving him standing by the base of the great spire in the heart of Helheim, in the shadow of the great eagle at the top. "And I'm not going to let being in the Realm of the Dead keep that from happening."

"Aw…" Hela mocked, seated upon a throne of black stone. "How touching."

"What just happened?"Roberto shivered, standing at Kurt's side. "It went dark for a minute there."

"I think I just got us a way out of Helheim." Kurt responded, glancing at Hela. "Did I?"

"The doorway requires only one to open it. Your ill-trimmed friend may accompany you." The Goddess of Death motioned dismissively as more of the mist around them cleared away, creating a safe passage to a set of stairs near the spire's base. "You'll find it at the top of this spire. I trust that you mortals still know how to use stairs."

"Thank you, Lady Hela." Kurt said wit ha slight bow of his head. "Come on Roberto, we should-"

Before he could say another word, the sky lit up with a blinding bright light and the eagle shrieked and spread its wings.

Xxx

 **Infernal**

"Is he dead?"

"Doesn't stink enough to be dead."

"Awwww!"

Carlos felt a soft, cushioned surface beneath him. "…am I dead?"

"Pretty sure if you were, you wouldn't be looking on this beautiful mug." Leslie answered, sitting by his bedside with a wooden mug in hand.

"Oh Glob, I'm in Hel." Carlos groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. "I know I wanted to get here somehow, but preferably alive!"

"Ha. Ha." Leslie poured the cup of water over his face.

"Ah! Cold!" He sat up. "Alright, alright! I'm awake!"

"Good." Leslie refilled the cup from a jug. "You've been asleep all day."

And that had to be equal to several weeks back home.

"Did you and Dracon get through fine?" He asked, accepting the cup.

"Did it without blocking out like you did." Leslie nodded. "Next time, wait to see how much of the magic elf drugs you're supposed to drink."

Carlos found that he had been relocated to a small hut, one of many constructed by the refugees of Tyr's Temple as temporary dwelling. When he first emerged many elves groaned and bags of what sounded like coins changed hands. Dracon, who had been flying patrol out around the island to fend off several dark elf raiding parties, made the time to fly down and congratulate Carlos on not being the first human to defecate himself to death in Alfheim. Kara, Carita and Einar were glad to see him in good health, though he wasn't sure if that was because they actually liked him or because they'd been in on the betting pool.

If it was the latter they did a damn good job of hiding it.

"Now that you've survived the Trial of Mimir, you will be able to approach him safely." Einar explained over a light lunch to help replenish Carlos' empty stomach. "Dracon proved very helpful in scouting the area out, so we will be able to lead you to it as soon as you are ready to go."

"No time like the present." Carlos said before munching on an apple. "Mmm. Gotta bring a few of these home. You don't get fruit like these on Earth."

"It turns out that there are many things which we don't get on Earth that wound up in one of the other realms." Dracon said. "Including mistletoe. I inquired on the off chance that we ever need to face Baldur again. It turns out his mother was thorough even in this realm."

"Even if she wasn't, wouldn't removing it be bad in the long run?" Carlos looked between him and Leslie. "Ragnarok? End of Asgard? Pretty sure they're some of our best allies in a pinch."

"That remains to be seen after everything we've heard." Dracon said grimly. "Odin…is not as benevolent as I once believed. The elves have told us things that he did in the past…terrible things done in the name of protecting Asgard."

"And adding that to what Tyr told us…I'm pretty sure if Odin had a chance he'd kill you to remove the risk of you burning the curse out of Baldur." Leslie cautioned. "That's why we need to be consider all options, Carlos. If Odin was willing to treat the elves, dwarves, giants and other races of the Nine Realms like crap to save his kingdom…what would he be willing to do if someone from Earth became a threat to that?"

"Well geez…I'll bill you for the sleeping pills I'll need after this." Carlos mumbled. "And like that: my appetite is going, going: gone. Let's focus on getting Kurt and Roberto back to the land of the living, then we can talk to Sebben back home and figure out a long term plan."

"Maybe if you're lucky, he will have forgotten the 'eye' comment." Dracon suggested. "Though I sincerely doubt it."

"Aw crap, that's never going away."

Xxx

"Dun-dun, dun-dun, dun-dun, dun-dun, dun-dun, dun!" Charlemagne hummed, holding up a tablet depicting the previous scene. "Finally."

He tossed it aside, causing the tablet to bounce off of Big Bob's head where he was held in place by the roots of a nearby tree.

"After thirteen chapters of pointless, boring schlock with no character development," Charlemagne walked past Rouge the Bat…who was presently frozen as a statue with the word 'YOLO' written on her face in bright red marker, "we can finally get to the meat of this story! To the real stuff that the readers came for!"

He stepped up onto the platform outside of Tyr's Temple where Shirley was hanging by her robe from an animated asgardian statue's spear tip. "A story of heroics, epic battles! Light verses dark. Good verses evil. Hero…" He stopped in front of Shirley. "Verses villain."

The canine mobian looked up at him, unimpressed. "Good guys verses stupid guy, you mean."

"Said the discount sorceress." Charlemagne turned and grinned at the sight of a pillar of light rising from the Bifrost circle. "Thank you for doing the hard work, by the way. Magic and I never do really agree. Heck, I'm just lucky that this chapter's budget wouldn't cover Tyr's cameo."

"Hrn…gonna rip you apart with my bare hands when I get out of this." Big Bob seethed.

"Oh hush now, buffoon. I have a proposition!" Charlemagne walked towards him, unaware of a small shape which darted out of some nearby bushes and into the Bifrost beam, vanishing with a barely audible 'cluck' which would have translated to something along the lines of..

'Eat my feathered ass!'

"You run from one place to another for the ones sitting at the high table in return for their table scraps." Charlemagne told the bound mercenary. "Wouldn't you like to be the one at the high table for a change? To set your own destiny instead of living someone else's?"

"Supposing for one second that I care…what exactly do you have in mind?" Big Bob's eyes narrowed behind his mask.

"An alliance, a partnership on equal terms." Charlemagne had the roots unwind and release him. "You want something more out of this life than working for those Illuminati posers. You want influence, power and wealth, the kind that people like you and I are regularly denied or given with strings attached. I propose this…you and your aerial accomplice help me get what I want…"

He offered Big Bob a hand. "And I help you break the table and make it anew…with you at the head." Charlemagne flashed a pearly smile. "Do we have a deal?"

Xxx

End of chapter

 **Just to clarify for anybody curious or forgetful: the scenes did not actually happen parallel in real time. From Kurt and Roberto's perspective barely any time has passed since they were flung from Earth, while from the others' perspective it's been several days on Earth and one on Alfheim…which adds up to several weeks on Earth again.**


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Trials of Yggdrasil P3

Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

 _Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds._

Xxx

 **Alfheim-**

"OH NO YOU DON'T!" Charlemagne slapped a censor bar over the rest of the location text. "No spoilers. Have you the manners of some uncouth chimpanzee?"

"Who are you talking to?" Big Bob asked, looking over a freshly assembled rifle.

"To…them." Charlemagne pointed at your computer screen. "Out there…in the darkness."

"Remind me again why we agreed to team up with him?" Rouge the Bat fluttered down.

"Because for all his…quirks, he got us on the right track." Big Bob slapped a clip of Dust enhanced rounds into the weapon and tested it on a nearby tree, watching as ice formed over the trunk.

"Exactly! We're like peas in a pod, the three of us! You want to whack Carlos, I want to help you whack Carlos." Charlemagne clapped Bob on the back. "You wanna make money, I wanna help you make money so I can steal it and buy myself a gelato yacht to sail the world on in hedonistic comfort."

"Yeah…sure." Bob held the clip up. "Dust still works here."

"But of course! The Nine Realms are not simply nine planets, my good man. Not all of them anyways. Asgard is, but it's a little newer compared to the rest. Alfheim on the other hand occupies the same space as Earth, simply on a different dimensional frequency which the Aesir and Vanir learned to navigate with magic." Charlemagne explained. "But don't let it give you a headache, most of them aren't worth visiting anyways. Especially Niflheim, where no one has anything nice to say about anything." He then looked at your screen again and stage-whispered. "At the time that ArchPsion started writing this we were still waiting for Lord Maximus to outright establish if Dust works on any planet or just Earth in the main story, you know, for consistency's sake."

He stepped away from Bob. "But enough of that my good chums! We've a Klondike Neanderthal, a Tauriel cosplayer and a Gundam to hunt." He snapped his fingers and changed his clothes to that of an archetypal Safari outfit, complete with a hat and hunting rifle. "Roll the chapter!"

Xxx

 **Chapter Fourteen: Trials of Yggdrasil, Part 3**

 **Alfheim, The Diamond Pass**

"Look at that hornet's nest." Leslie whistled, spying from afar on an encampment of dark elves which stretched across a great expanse of fields and trees leading up to a pass into a range of mountains. "There's got to be thousands of them."

"I estimate almost forty-three thousand based on the number of tents alone." Dracon commented as the archer hopped down from her tree, catching her on reflex before setting her on her feet. "Funny thing is, a lot of them aren't warriors. I see families, elders, packs of animals."

"It's like a nation on the march." Carlos said what everyone was thinking. "And we need to sneak past them."

"Child's play, at least until we get up into the Pass." Einar said confidently, searching through a pouch at his hip. "The Dark Elf King and his elite guard will be encamped higher up, safer from attack and right in our path."

He took out a handful of dust- not Dust as in from Earth but regular looking dust. "This will make us invisible to the naked eye, but the Dark Elf sorcerers will see through it once we reach the upper camp."

"Then we won't bother." Carlos decided. "Subtlety was never our strong suit to begin with."

"But how will you get there then?" Einar asked before Dracon engaged his rocket boosters. "…oh."

"Yeah." Dracon agreed. "Oh. So what's the plan of attack?"

The Infernal Huntsman smirked. "Funny you should ask…"

Xxx

Five minutes later, at the ramparts of the upper camp, the sentries gazing out over the sea of tents and animal enclosures recoiled as a ball of fire slammed down into the sloped ground some thirty feet away from the gate. The fire dissipated quickly and from the diminishing blaze stood Carlos, hands raised and a smile on his face.

"Hi, I'm Carlos of Midgard, and I surrender!" He held out his hands. "Take me to your leader."

Xxx

"Did he just say 'Hi, I'm Carlos of Midgard'?" Dracon asked, unimpressed.

"So…he's an idiot?" Einar inquired.

"Yeeeep." Leslie said, adding a 'pop' to the tail end. "But don't worry, he does this all the time."

Xxx

The upper camp of the Dark Elf army was home to the King, his elite guard and their closest family and retainers, reaching a total of several hundred packed into the fortified enclosure. They came out in full, some buzzing overhead to get a look at the Midgardian in their midst as he was marched through the camp, hands bound in enchanted iron and spears at his back.

They took him before the largest structure in the camp: an improvised shelter partly constructed of bones from a gargantuan creatures used to anchor great bolts of cloth into a functioning tent. In the shadow of the opening at the front was a throne made of twisted, black roots growing up from the ground. Upon it sat a dark elf larger than any of his kin encountered so far, adorned in armour over his arms and legs, a cloth belt tied around a bronze ring placed upon his waist over tattered furs and leathers and a great helmet which pointed upwards, with two protrusions overshadowing the rest to form a sort of crown.

This dark elf was also being attended to by several women of his kind, serving him food and drink.

"A child of Midgard has not walked Alfheim for many years." He said, taking an offered goblet and pouring the red contents down his throat. "And yet I hear that no less than three walk upon our world, aiding our enemy no less."

The dark elf wiped a forearm across his stained lower face. "And now one is so bold as to walk into the heart of my army. Alone. Unarmed. Defenceless. Your audacity has gained Svartaljofurr's interest…for the moment."

He push himself to his feet and towered over Carlos, almost twice as tall alone. "Tell me, Midgardian, why you have thrown yourself at my feet. Do you seek to beg?"

"Actually I'm here to threaten you." Carlos corrected him. "And offer you a way to escape said threat."

"You?" Svartaljofurr snorted. "Threaten me? A mortal from Midgard? This will be a treat."

"You'd think." Carlos looked up. "Man, my timing skills are way off."

The dark elves peered up, curious to see what Carlos was looking at.

"What are you going on about?" Svartaljofurr demanded with a frown.

"Oh, wait!" Carlo snapped his fingers, further frustrating the dark elf. "I forgot, it was coming from the side, not the sky."

"What is coming from-" Before he could finish, Svartaljofurr heard a series of rumbling crashes, the splintering of wood and the cries of his warriors caught in the path of what sounded like a hurricane making its way right towards them. "What is going on?!"

Carlos grinned and held his arms up before the Leviathan axe spun into view, ripping through the nearby encampment and cutting through his bonds. "It's called a distraction, moron." He grasped the axe and propped it on one shoulder. "Thanks for making it easy."

He tapped his radio. "Dracon, are you clear yet?"

Xxx

Far beyond the encampment, Dracon set down his passengers on the path beyond where the dark elf scouts were patrolling. "Affirmative. We have a straight shot to Mimir's location. Need me to swing back around to pick you up?"

Xxx

"Eh, not needed." Carlos spun the Leviathan axe in one hand. "I'll handle this lot."

Svartaljofurr, who had dived for cover, climbed to his feet with an incredulous expression. "Handle us?" He asked. "You will _handle us?_ You mortals have gotten annoyingly cocky since we last visited your world!"

He raised an arm and barked. "KILL HIM!"

Dark elf warriors charged at Carlos from every direction, bearing pikes and swords which crackled with magical energies. The Infernal Hunter flashed a ferocious grin before reaching one hand into his jacket pocket where he tapped his tablet's screen.

Beep!

 **(Immigrant by Led Zeppelin begins playing)**

 _ **Aaaah-ah!**_

 _ **Aaaah-ah!**_

Taking Leviathan with one hand, Carlos swung it around while unleashing a ring of fire that stopped the dark elves' charge cold, leaving a few just close enough to be struck non-fatally. He finished his spin and hooked the axe's head around the haft of a pike, tugging the wielder in where he bashed them in their face, crumpling their helmet and their nose before kicking them back, knocking over several more fighters.

 _ **We come from the land of the ice and snow,**_

 _ **From the midnight sun, where the hot spring flows**_

Seeing how a close up assault had failed, several of the dark elf magic wielders maintained a safe distance and flung barrages of fire bolts in his direction.

"Seriously? Fire?" He asked as his aura absorbed several of these bolts, converting them into energy to replenish himself. "Did nothing about my entry scream 'pyrokinetic'?"

He retaliated by flinging Leviathan through the air. Guided by enchantments bound to his will, the axe curved along its course and strike three of the mages.

 _ **The hammer of the gods**_

 _ **We'll drive our ships to new lands**_

 _ **To fight the horde, and sing and cry**_

 _ **Valhalla, I am coming!**_

Xxx

Further up the path, Dracon paused and turned about, engaging his Funnels to form a shield against a chain of magical lightning. Dark elves buzzed through the air towards the group, hastily trying to make up lost ground.

"Faster response time than I'd anticipated." The Dragon of Denver muttered before raising his right arm, unleashing his Armoured Armor Beam Smart-gun, unleashing barrages of six individual energy beams which picked off a handful of the flying assailants. "Leslie, take Einar ahead. I'll meet up with you after Carlos is done with his spectacle."

"Suit yourself." Leslie shrugged and hurried along the forested path with Einar.

 _ **On we sweep with threshing oar**_

 _ **Our only goal will be the western shore!**_

Taking to the air, Dracon ignited his Hyper Beam Sword, giving the dark elves pause as they took in the sight of the energy blade. Raising one hand, he motioned invitingly with his armoured fingers.

"Take your best shot." He dared, and they accepted the challenge.

Xxx

"Weaklings!" Svartaljofurr howled as several of his men retreated, some having to be dragged back to their incurred injuries. "Thirty flee before one?!"

"Could be worse." Carlos pointed out, catching Leviathan as it flew back to him. "Could've been 'zero fleeing from one' if I wasn't feeling merciful. This axe comes with a charm that lets me blunt the blade on command. I could've sent them back to you in pieces."

He pointed the axe at the dark elf King. "Here's my threat, and now here's your out: withdraw your armies back to your lands, leave the light elves in peace and vow to never return. In return I'll let you live."

"You do not dictate terms to me, mortal!" Svartaljofurr raged, taking up a spear tall enough to be a small tree. "I will dispatch you myself and then lay waste to our feeble cousins and their island sanctuary."

Carlos opened his hand and let Leviathan's handle slide through his grasp before taking hold of it again, much closer to the head this time. "I was hoping you say that."

Propping his spear up, the dark elf charged with a roar, and Carlos raced to meet him.

 _ **Ah-ah, ah!**_

 _ **Ah-ah, ah!**_

Just before they collided, Carlos ash-stepped around the spear and sank Leviathan into the dark elf's back. Svartaljofurr grunted and twisted around, backhanding him with strength on par with Baldur's and sending Carlos flying through several tents, demolishing them.

 _ **We come from the land of the ice and snow**_

 _ **From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow!**_

"Okay then." The Infernal Hunter climbed to his feet after cutting his way free of the layers of fabric. "Not as fragile as your pals are. I can work with that."

Svartaljofurr launched himself into the air and briefly maintained an aerial vantage point, scoping out the crumpled stretch of tents before he spotted Carlos. With a cackle he dove, spear poised to strike. Carlos twisted his body in one direction to narrowly evade and then planted one hand flat, spinning himself about to kick both feet into one of the dark elf's legs, unbalancing him and leaving him open to an upwards swipe from Leviathan. The axe dug into the cuirass and drew some blood, but not so much that Svartaljofurr could not rear back one leg and kick Carlos, sending both man and axe flying again.

 _ **How soft your fields so green**_

 _ **Can whisper tales of gore**_

"I am Svartaljofurr, King of the Dark Elves and Chosen of the Great Nidhoggr!" The king proclaimed as Carlos picked himself up again. "You are nothing before me, mortal! He has armed me with powers beyond-"

"-my comprehension?" Carlos finished for him, making the dark elf sputter indignantly.

"How dare you im-"

"-pertinent mortal?"

"Stop-"

"Interrupting me?!"

"I WILL MAKE YOUR CARCASS INTO A RUG!"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Carlos dusted off his sleeves. "Bet she'd be reeeeal disappointed in you right about now."

"You know nothing of my royal mother!"

"Then go to the Umber Steppes and find out!" Carlos snapped, citing an obscure location he'd remembered the Light Elves mentioning during a tale of an old battle between them and their distant kin.

This made Svartaljofurr pause mid-step towards Carlos. "Is…that where her spirit resides?"

"YOU DON'T KNOW BECAUSE YOU'RE A HORRIBLE SON!"

The dark elves across the valley below cringed at the howl of their king, which could have awoken all of Helheim.

 _ **Of how we calmed the tides of war**_

 _ **We are your overlords**_

Xxx

An airborne mage lined up a shot on Einar and Leslie's fleeing forms but was swatted from the air by a backhanded blow from Dracon as he shot past. The Dragon of Denver had worked to keep their attention off of his companions, but between their numbers and persistence the dark elves were forcing him to juggle defending them and defending himself. His arsenal had given him a decisive advantage, but his enemies had proven adaptable, using their magic to generate shields to protect or miniature portals which redirected his attacks, sometimes back at him, forcing him to rely on more close ranged measures.

 _ **On we sweep with threshing oar**_

 _ **Our only goal will be the western shore**_

"Are you still playing with them up there?!" Leslie slid to a stop while twisting about, an arrow drawn back.

"There's a bit of a disparity in numbers." Dracon remarked dryly, vectoring his shields against a concentrated barrage of elemental attacks.

Leslie sighed and adjusted her aim, loosing her arrow so that it sailed over him. "Boys. Always making me clean up after them."

The arrow exploded and unleashed arcs of lightning which travelled between the dark elves, simulating the effect of a bug zapper. Any too far to be affected were picked off by several shots from Dracon.

"That's the last of them." Dracon flew down and rejoined Leslie and Einar. "What is Carlos doing?"

"Probably getting his ass kicked." Leslie answered frankly.

Xxx

 **So now you'd better stop and rebuild all your ruins**

 **For peace and trust can win the day despite of all your losing**

"And I bet your mom knows it, too!" Carlos slammed the base of Leviathan into Svartaljofurr's skull as the dark elf king tried to shake him off, buzzing over the camp.

"I!" THUNK! "WILL!" THUNK! "MAKE YOUR SKULL!" THUNK! " _ **INTO A DRINKING CUP!**_ "

"Get in line! It starts back on Earth and goes around the planet!" Carlos grabbed the dark elf by his horns and tugged backwards, causing him to lose control and crash down onto a cliff. "TWICE!"

Xxx

"Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh!"

"Would you please…stop…singing?"

"Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh!"

"WILL YOU STOP SINGING ALREADY?!" Big Bob's eyes almost bugged out through the eye sockets of his mask.

Charlemagne, standing upon a fully equipped stage with a microphone, sighed and snapped his fingers to turn off the speaker system. "Yes folks, it was me singing all along. Somebody had to inject 20 cc's of talent into this mosh pit of mediocrity."

"Do me a favour the next time you feel like serenadin' anyone." A voice with a thick scottish accent came from the base of a tree where a man was hopelessly tangled up within the thick roots. "Kill me, then sing."

With a huff, Charlemagne dissipated the stage and sound equipment. "Everyone's a critic."

"Hard not to be with company like this. What do you want?" The man sighed, tilting his horned head back to gaze at the sky.

"Ah, straight to the point! I like it." Charlemagne approached. "Mimir, my good man, I'm in need of a pathway into Helheim and I'm told that you're well acquainted with that neck of the woods."

"Really? You came all the way up here, interrupted my musings and wasted my- contrary to what my circumstances may indicate, precious time all to ask how to go to the land of the dead? Turn around and walk off the nearest cliff and you'll be there before you know it!" Mimir replied cheerily before his smile melted away. "Dumb arse."

"Ah! That banter!" Charlemagne chuckled. "Makes me think of my old friend Colonel Sanders. May the chicken gods bless his deep fried soul. But unfortunately my nostalgia must come second, for I am- as every pushy bureaucratic manager will say: on the clock."

"What manner of stupidity did the Nine Realms see fit to drop at my tree?" Mimir sighed in despair.

"The kind that has a race to win." Charlemagne reached out and grasped one of Mimir's horns. "So, from one businessman to another: where's the way to Helheim?"

"Didn't you just hear what I- AGH!" Mimir yelped as Charlemagne's hand glowed, burning the horn black where he held it.

"I'm not hearing answers and I find it _most_ disturbing." Charlemagne drawled. "And yes, I'm paraphrasing the Badass of a certain franchise now."

"You're…insane!" Mimir hissed rough clenched teeth.

"Gee, like nobody in the audience hadn't figured that out." Charlemagne motioned to Rouge. "Oh Rouge, dear, the tongue-loosener. Please."

The bat mobian fluttered over with a case in hand and opened it, revealing an asgardian rune imprinted on ancient parchment. "Right here, chief."

"One Asgardian rune of truth. Hold the fries." Charlemagne held the parchment up to Mimir, forcing him to gaze into it. "Every second that you resist the compulsion to answer my question shall be a thousand times more agonizing than a thousand years of being stuck in this tree. So I would highly advise that you cease this fruitless display of defiance."

Mimir groaned and tried to tear his eyes away from the rune, feeling it's effects take hold of him. "Agh…it's…below!" He gave a strangled gasp as he felt the effects of the rune alleviate for the moment. "At the..bottom of…the cliff…behind me!"

Charlemagne raised one brow. "Wait, so you were telling the truth before?"

"Yes, but I deliberately made it appear that I was tellin' you to bugger off because one: you're annoying and I hate your voice. Two: I think you're an absolute moron. And three: I was stalling to see if the Lass and the Elf would hurry up and kill your annoying ass already."

"Lass and-" Charlemagne spun around and held up a hand, plucking an arrow out of the air in mid-flight only for it to explode in his grasp, knocking him down. "Guagh!" He groaned as he tried to climb back to his feet. "Should've seen that coming. Hawkeye and Green Arrow did it a million times before."

Big Bob unfolded a fighting staff and met Leslie as she leapt down from a rock formation overlooking the short stretch of open ground that Mimir's tree was perched on. Einar remained at a vantage point and launched crystal arrows as Rouge flew down and out of sight beyond the cliff, avoiding the projectiles as they discharged spells of elemental energy on impact. The elf changed his focus to Charlemagne as he found his footing and loosed three arrows in rapid succession.

"Fool me once," Charlemagne snapped his fingers and caused the arrows to halt and explode at a safe distance, "shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

Leslie used her bow as an improved staff to parry a sweeping strike to her head and rolled under Big Bob's next swing before jabbing him in the back of one knee. He grunted and leaned back, planting a hand which he put all of his weight on and flipped backwards into a standing position, just barely evading a sweep kick and redirecting a jab away from his face.

"Blind Archer Clan, by your outfit." He said as he and Leslie grappled with one another. "You should've stayed home, little girl."

"Funny, I was thinking you should've stayed in the hockey rink." Leslie grunted as she felt herself being forced back and broke the lock between their weapons before leaping into the air. "Too late for regrets, sports fans!"

Her dragon tattoo coiled down her arm as she drew back an arrow. The Dragon Manifest, glowing crimson as its open maw set itself over the arrow's head, shrieked before she loosed her shot and watched as Big Bob dove to one side, only to still be picked up and swept away by a concussive blast resulting from the miniature explosion.

Leslie's feelings of triumph were dashed when she found herself frozen in mid air, ensnared by a red energy field which restrained her movements. Einar was similarly trapped, his next arrow pointed towards Charlemagne whose hand was revealed to be the source of this phenomenon.

"Hello, poppet." Charlemagne said with an exaggerated british accent, bringing the two close to him as Rouge flew back up from beyond the cliff's edge. "Hey Bobby-B, you still alive over there?"

"Bite me." Big Bob muttered as he sat up and shook his head.

"He's fine." Charlemagne looked at his prisoners. "But let's talk about you a bit."

"What…the hell…are you?" Leslie bit out.

"Oh, you noticed that I share an unfortunate resemblance with your ex." Charlemagne grinned. "Rest assured, the similarities are only skin deep. My name is Charlemagne Hunter, formerly known as that Klondike-craving Neanderthal's dark clone. The one from his first foray into the Darklands all those years ago…and the one that I'd prefer he thought was still dead."

He moved them both towards the cliff. "That makes you two what mobsters call loose ends." He looked to Mimir. "Answer or I'll get another Truth Rune out. Is there a functioning portal to Helheim at the bottom of this cliff?"

Mimir sighed, looking anxiously between the captives and Charlemagne out of the corner of his eye when the roots binding him would not allow him to fully turn and see the events unfolding near him. "Aye. It is. The All-Father built it as a back-door past the Bifrost, a way for him to slip into Helheim and work his way out if he ever ended up stranded here. Also left me here with the implied threat that one day he'd drop me into it if I displeased him, but then he went and forgot I ever existed."

"My sympathies." Charlemagne said dryly. "So if I were to drop these two…they would wind up in Helheim?"

"That's the truth of it." Mimir nodded, struggling to retain a calm demeanour. "But if you spare them, I'll answer as many questions as you want."

"The rune will already ensure that and quite frankly they aren't worth the headache I'll have if Carlos figures out that I'm alive." Charlemagne shrugged. "Nothing personal. Bye!"

He let them go and watched them plunge out of sight, their screams fading away quickly.

"No!" Mimir cried. "You sodding, smarmy little shite!"

"Ooh, the pain." Charlemagne dusted his palms off and turned away from the cliff. "I already have what I want. Let's just let those two simmer in Helheim for a bit then we'll follow after and- why do I hear boss music in my head?"

Peeking over the cliff, he was struck dead centre in his brow by Dracon's helmet-head, sending Charlemagne flying head over heels as the Gundam landed and set Leslie and Einar back on solid ground.

"Not a word." Leslie fumed, looking up at Dracon.

"Did I say anything?" The Dragon of Denver shrugged helplessly.

"You're thinking it: you told me so."

"I didn't say anything!"

Rouge and Big Bob converged on Charlemagne, whose brow briefly held the imprint of a portion of Dracon's head before the injury was willed away.

"Hey, chief." Rouge cleared her throat. "It might just be me, but those dark elves? They aren't turning out to be the distraction you said they'd be."

"Indeed, it appears that they live up to their reputation: over-serialized." Charlemagne rubbed his forehead. "That's what I get for relying on the unwitting help of a watered down version of Warhammer's goth clique- duck."

He reached over and gently pushed Rouge down, ignoring her protests as the shapes of Carlos and Svartaljofurr crashed into the clearing and bounced off of the ground, passing where Rouge's upper body had been before rolling. Carlos swung his legs up and kicked the dark elf overhead, flinging him over the cliff next to Mimir's tree. Svartaljofurr's wings, burnt and tattered, trailed uselessly behind the King of Dark Elves as he plunged into the mists below, howling in rage until his voice faded.

"That was fun!" Carlos flipped onto his feet. "Real good way to start the day- whaaaat the actual hell am I looking at?" He stared at the sight of…himself, albeit dressed sharply with neater hair and flanked by two bounty hunters.

"Your better half." Charlemagne answered. "I was hoping to forestall this, but it looks like Glob has decided to throw a monkey wrench into my plans."

He held up a hand. "Oh well, you know what they say about spilt milk."

" _ **That to weep for that which cannot be altered is a fruitless and pathetic thing.**_ "

"Exactly!" Charlemagne paused. "Wait, who just explained my reference?"

"Oh boy." Mimir's eyes darted around. "Could, uh, someone knock me out? Please?"

" _ **Dear Mimir, why miss the fun?**_ " Out in the mists under the ledge, something shifted. " _ **I've waited so long for this unique opportunity, to meet a Spiral wielder of the Soul Gem. And now two have stumbled into my domain just to speak with you…my thanks, little Aesir. You make such excellent bait.**_ "

"I am really not liking the sound of that." Carlos looked to Dracon. "Did you see anything down there?"

"It was empty. Devoid of life." The Dragon of Denver shook his head and employed his sensors to get an idea of the scale of whatever had just appeared in the mists. "But now there's something…big down there."

"I think we're about to meet the dark elves' new boss." Leslie stepped away from the ledge. "How do you pronounce it again? Needle-hog?"

"Nidhoggr?!" Mimir thrashed against the roots binding him as he tried to look around. "The dragon?! He's here?!"

" _ **Malice Striker, they call me. Devourer. Wyrm. Carrion Eater. Serpent. Godslayer. Many a title have the denizens of the Nine Realms laid upon my shoulders, yet never have I forgotten...**_ "

The mists parted as a great serpent's head emerged into view, venomous green eyes darting between each combatant.

" _ **The name I chose for myself in the fledgling days of humanity, before the usurper cast me out.**_ " The serpent rose high, overshadowing all before it. " _ **You shall know me as Asmodeus and kneel before me, else you shall share in the light elves' fate.**_ "

Xxx

End of Chapter


End file.
